Unlocked
by BelloftheSea
Summary: In the aftermath of Promised Day, two worlds collided in a way that no one expected. Now the people of Amestris are divided and in this world, the ultimate taboo is not human transmutation but the intentional unlocking of another person's memories – for, once they remember, they can never go back.
1. Another Sunset

**Unlocked**

In the aftermath of Promised Day, two worlds collided in a way that no one expected. Now the people of Amestris are divided and in this world, the ultimate taboo is not human transmutation but the intentional unlocking of another person's memories – for, once they remember, they can never go back.

* * *

 **A.N.** Once more I find myself toying with memory. What can I say – it's fun! This story diverges from Brotherhood during the final battle and I hope I can find a way to make it all make sense. There will be some Parental!Roy leanings at times (mostly in this chapter) but this will be far more action packed than _ABNE_ has been so far. No, _ABNE_ is not over – far from it and I will keep working on it. But sometimes inspiration strikes and a story just begs to be written.

 **Disclaimer:** Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

 **Rating:** This story is rated T

* * *

 **Chapter 1, Another Sunset**

Between the deepening of twilight in the east and the still orange glow in the west, a portion of the sky remained blue. It wasn't the bright blue of mid-afternoon or even the deep blue of morning, but something more… turquoise, bordering on greenish while still remaining so obviously blue. Were he an artist, Allen Richart might have tried to duplicate that color on canvas although, he wasn't quite sure that was possible. Perhaps a camera could capture it, if the resolution was good enough. But Allen wasn't much into photography either. No… it was far better for him to simply admire the color in its natural state for however long it would last before fading into darkness.

Fleeting.

The color was fleeting, just as the sunset was fleeting. There had never been a sunset like this one and there never would be again, because every sunset was different and one could only enjoy them for a short time before they were gone forever. Even a painting, or a photograph, could not capture it completely. Those were limited to only what the eyes could see. But what of the cool breeze tousling his hair? What of the scent of summer blossoms carried by that same wind? What of the cicadas adding their steady hum to music of the birds busy settling in their nests? What of the dew already dampening the grass between his fingers as the humidity of the early summer day settled with the coming of the night? What painting, what photograph, could ever capture those?

"And yet… so often we focus only on what we can see." Allen whispered into the evening as a troop of teenagers walked by on the sidewalk below the hill on which he was sitting. Already, the street lights were coming on and they'd all be due home soon for supper. Nevertheless they bid their time carelessly, laughing and joking without any mind to the world around them. They paused at odd moments to make faces at their phones, texting and sharing selfies with whichever friends were not presently in their company.

"They take so much for granted – always snapping photos, so sure that those will be enough to remember the most precious moments; so busy taking pictures that they fail to truly experience the world with all of their senses… am I so strange?" Allen closed his eyes with a sad smile.

Strange, indeed. He had learned long ago not to take those small things for granted. He'd lived without them, for so long. Now he was grateful for every moment. But then, that was another lifetime entirely.

"Alphonse."

The teenage boy was startled out of his musings by an unexpected voice – or maybe, not so unexpected. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd been discovered here. Leaning back on his hands he tilted his head over one shoulder to smile at man behind him. "Hello, Colonel."

The "Colonel" stepped closer and then settled himself in the grass beside Allen with a heavy groan before reaching over to smack the boy lightly on the back of his head. "Don't call me that out here."

Allen just grinned in response. "Don't call me Alphonse."

"Touché." They settled into a comfortable silence while the sun continued its journey down towards the horizon.

 _Not long now_. Allen kept his thoughts to himself this time, not wanting to disturb his colleague. He'd watched for long enough now that he could almost set his watch by the moment he was waiting for. _Five more minutes_. He could afford to let his gaze wander a bit.

He looked to his friend, a man at least ten years older than his own sixteen years, though he'd never thought to ask – he could be older, or younger. Roland Mustard wore his dark hair in a more controlled state than Allen had ever seen it when he'd known the man he was before, often slicked back with ample use of gel or mousse, leaving only a few unruly strands to hang down in the front. His eyes were the same though; narrow – bespeaking of what would, here, be considered Asian descent – and black, yet somehow capable of expressing great emotion whenever he bothered to let down that impenetrable mask.

It still startled Allen sometimes, to see the man dressed in something other than military blue, despite the fact that those uniforms didn't exist on this side. These days, Roland usually just wore jeans and t-shirts, though he threw on slacks and a polo if he was going into town. Really, it wasn't so different from Allen's own dressing preference – whenever he was allowed to choose anyway. If he thought he could get away with it, he would donate all of his labels and high price tags to the nearby homeless shelter. Surely there were kids there who needed nice clothes more than he did. It was hard for him to imagine that there had actually been a time when he _enjoyed_ having twelve designer suits in _one_ of his closets.

But then, at least he could wear clothes now. He had to admit, he'd had fun coordinating colors for a little while – trying to find a style that was just him. His hair had been so short then. He thought they might have shaved it after the accident but all of the old pictures showed him with shorter hair too. He'd managed to grow it out closer to what it had once been – just enough to feel it tickle the tops of his ears when the wind blew – and he was much more comfortable with the look of his face with bangs than without. The press liked it two – apparently his blond locks brought out the color of his eyes – not that he'd done it for them or anything. He'd been more than happy to finally drop off of their radar when all of the drama died down.

There were still two minutes left on Allen's silent count when Roland turned to look at him with a sigh. "Why are you out here, Al." Roland used his nickname, glad that it worked for both since the "Colonel" couldn't seem to get used to calling him Allen. Some of their names were like that – able to find an interchangeable middle-ground. Roland was… close _enough_ to Roy that it wasn't too bad if someone slipped in public. But some of names were just so far off – there wasn't a very good way to bridge Harold with Heymans.

Allen's sigh echoed his friend's. "You know why." He set his mouth halfway between a smile and a grimace. They'd had this talk before. It was always the same and Roland's attempts had never made a difference. Once Al was there, he wasn't going to leave, no matter how much he knew it would hurt. But he supposed that Roland had to try – the same way Allen tried to stop _him_ from going to the café on Tenth Street. That was just how their friendship worked, back and forth, each trying to save the other from a little bit of heartache and failing… every time.

"C'mon, let's go do something – get some pizza, maybe." Roland made the suggestion but he didn't move to get up. He already knew what Al's answer would be.

"Sure – in a few minutes."

Roland stared at him for a moment longer before leaning back on his hands to gaze at the darkening sky. "We're a couple of masochists, you know that right?"

"Yup." It wasn't really that though – as much as they like to joke that it was. They didn't enjoy the pain. They didn't want to hurt. But they went anyway, knowing that the pain would come, because… it was worth it. Even far apart, never touching, never speaking – it was worth it just to know that they were there and that maybe… maybe someday they could actually meet again.

It was a foolish hope of course, given the code they had chosen to live by – a code designed to protect those within their ranks as well as those without – but Allen couldn't stop himself from hoping. Some days it felt like hope was the only thing he had left.

Time was up. As if by instinct, Allen turned and fixed his eyes on the little house across the street at the base of the hill. It was a modest home, two stories but narrow with a small yard. The walls were painted a pale blue, not unlike the sky Al had been admiring earlier, while the front door and shutters were white. The defining feature of this house, however – the one thing which set it apart from all of its neighbors – was the stargazing deck built off of the roof, with a ladder extending down into the backyard. It wasn't very large – just big enough for three – but it suited their needs.

On cue, Al saw a familiar face appear over the far edge of the deck. He smiled this was what he'd been waiting for.

The blond teenager pulled himself onto the deck with practiced ease and immediately dashed to where his telescope stood waiting. He pulled the cap off the lens and made some adjustments to various knobs, all the while looking about the skies for whatever celestial bodies he was hoping to see this evening.

Allen still couldn't figure out just what the other boy was looking for or at every evening. It didn't matter. The only thing that really mattered was that he was there – so real, so close… but still so far away.

Jarred Hohens Jr. was seventeen and just one week from completing his junior year in high school. Healthy, strong, and handsome, with golden hair and eyes, he played sports – track and soccer mostly – and participated in several school clubs. He made excellent grades, was a member of the National Honors Society, and was already slated for Valedictorian when he graduated if he kept it up. He'd be guaranteed scholarships and entrance into any school he wanted – a good thing considering that his parents could never afford to put him through school otherwise.

The Hohens weren't poor but they weren't particularly well-off either. They struggled financially at times but did all right considering. Jarred Sr. and his wife, Patricia had tried for many years to have a child before finally conceiving. The pregnancy was difficult and complications during birth had ultimately left them unable to have any more. They doted on their only child, providing him with all of the love and support a child could want. Theirs was a good family – so very good.

Allen was glad. The one time in the past year that he'd bothered to use his family name to get him anything had been in this – gathering information on Jarred Hohens Jr. and his family. He had to be sure that he was safe, that he was happy. If anything had been wrong, anything at all, Al would not have hesitated to unlock Jarred's mind – it wouldn't have been the first taboo he'd committed.

But he'd found out everything he could and everything… was good. So he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to tear Jarred Hohens away from his home and loving parents. It wouldn't be right.

Jarred bent down to peer through his telescope, looking at… something. Whatever it was, his face lit up at the sight and he dashed back to the ladder. "Mom! Dad! Get up here! You're gonna miss it!" He called out, his excited voice just loud enough to carry over to where Allen and Roland were seated on the hill. Another voice responded and, a moment later, Patricia Hohens climbed onto the deck, followed swiftly by her husband. Conversation followed, though none of it was loud enough to be overheard on the hillside, and the small family took turns looking through the telescope and discussing what they had seen. They were all so happy.

Allen smiled. It was easy – at first. There were so many reasons to be happy for the other boy – a boy with four, functioning limbs and a smiling face; a boy with a father who would never leave him and a mother who wasn't in danger of dying; a boy who's most terrifying nightmares likely involved showing up naked to a school presentation; a boy who was and yet… could never _be_ the brother Alphonse had once loved so dearly.

His smile slipped, as it always did, and a dark hand tightened somewhere inside of his chest. The pain was just as familiar as anything else – a terrible pressure on his heart making it hard to breathe. It would probably be easier to just let go, let it roll over him like a wave until it passed. And yet, some natural instinct urged him to fight it – to will back the tears and keep on smiling. There was so much good here, so many reasons to smile. His brother had everything Al had ever wanted for him. Even if they couldn't be together, it was enough that his brother was happy.

But it still hurt.

Allen didn't know when his body had started shaking but he did notice the strong hand on his shoulder and that was all it took to break through the last of his barriers. He turned and buried his face into Roland's side, grateful for the warm arms which wrapped around his frame automatically. In some ways, he felt like a fool. At sixteen, he shouldn't be so overcome by emotion; he should have more control than this. But then… he'd gone so long without the ability to cry and now… it was just so easy.

It only took him a few minutes to regain his composure – he was used to it by now, having come to this spot and cried at least once a week for the past five months. He didn't extract himself from Roland's soothing embrace, instead, merely turning to face the little house at the base of the hill once again. He was glad that Roland was there – the man had been his saving grace, after waking up in this world of confusion and chaos. He didn't know what he would have done if the Colonel hadn't found him. And still, the man was looking after him. Al wasn't sure he could ever thank him enough.

Allen wiped the tears from his eyes and let himself smile again at the boy who could never be his brother. Jarred was sitting next to his father now, while Patricia took her turn at the telescope – a sweet, quiet moment. And it was enough for Al to know that Ed was happy.

He sighed heavily and leaned back against the man who had somehow become almost like a father to him. "I miss him, Roy. So much."

The Colonel gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Me too, Al."


	2. An Unexpected Storm

**Unlocked**

In the aftermath of Promised Day, two worlds collided in a way that no one expected. Now the people of Amestris are divided and in this world, the ultimate taboo is not human transmutation but the intentional unlocking of another person's memories – for, once they remember, they can never go back.

* * *

 **A.N.** Alright! When a story begs to be written, it gets written. That being said, I have started on the next chapter of _ABNE_. I'll get back to that soon. Also, for anyone who has ever read my one-shot, _I'm Still Here_ , be sure to check out the new companion piece by BlueTeller, entitled _He's Still Here._

Some action in this chapter – actually, probably the most action I have ever written, ever. I don't write a lot of action scenes usually. This one was fun though. Lots of questions still, I know. But we will find out the answers as Ed finds them out. From this point on, unless I decide otherwise, the story will be from Ed's point of view.

 **Disclaimer:** Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

 **Rating:** This story is rated T

* * *

 **Chapter 2, An Unexpected Storm**

Jarred Hohens put his pen down with a satisfied smile. He'd finished his last exam with ten minutes to spare – even after checking and double checking his work – and history wasn't even his _best_ subject. Raising his hand, he waited for the teacher to come and collect his test. She smiled at him on her way over, then leaned close to whisper, "Have a good summer, Ed."

"Thanks. You too, Mrs. Scott." He whispered back before standing, pen in hand, and quietly moving to the back of the classroom to retrieve his backpack. He stepped out into the hallway, grinning. There wasn't another student or teacher in sight yet. Too soon, he knew, there would be a crowd of teenagers pressing to empty out their lockers, get last minute yearbook signatures, take their first selfies of the summer, and simultaneously throw an impromptu end-of-the-school-year hallway party. Ed wouldn't be surprised if they broke out silly string and confetti – the water balloon fight would hopefully be _outside_ this year.

But for the next ten minutes, Ed was king of the castle, master of the hallway, and… there was no one around to witness his school's out happy dance which he would never dare to perform in public. He was free to two-step, hop, and spin his way down the hall, towards his locker, his sneakers squeaking on the tile the whole way down, without any fear of embarrassment because all of the other students were still busy trying to finish their exams and he…

The door to the girl's bathroom swung open and Ed froze, with his arms in the air and one foot stuck out at a weird angle, just as Wendy Bell looked up with a startled gasp. Apparently she hadn't been expecting anyone else in the hallway either, but at least _she_ hadn't been caught dancing like a maniac in public.

 _Oh, yeah. Real smooth, Ed. Just embarrass yourself in front of the prettiest girl in school, why don't you?_ He grinned awkwardly, racking his brain for some way to salvage this situation before settling on the only thing that might work. He "stretched" his arms high above his head with an exaggerated yawn. _Play it cool. Yup. Totally chill._ He told himself.

"Woo, long test." Ed smirked and shoved his hands in his pockets where they couldn't embarrass him any further. "How you doing, Wendy?"

Wendy's cheeks turned pink and she averted her glance off to the side, looking at something… or nothing… further on down the hallway. "Um… I'm alright. How are you, Ed – er – Jarred?"

Ed rolled his eyes at the correction. "Just Ed, Wendy. I'm not a jewelry store."

She didn't look at him, but he could see her chewing on the inside of her cheek, her eyebrows creased in a frown even as she plastered a totally fake smile on her lips. "Right… Ed. How are you?"

"I'm great." He ignored her odd behavior and plowed forward, hoping that maybe she would loosen up if he kept it casual. "Just finished my last exam. This summer is going to be awesome, don't you think?"

"Yeah, sure." Wendy looked both ways down the hall, avoiding his eyes completely, clearly looking for an escape. "I, um… I'd better go empty my locker."

"Yeah, me too." Ed conceded. He couldn't really force her to talk if she didn't want to.

Wendy shrugged her bag up higher on her shoulder and stepped to the side. "Right, well… have a good summer."

"You too." Ed watched her go, unable to ignore the pretty way her long blonde ponytail swung back and forth between her shoulder blades. Still… it was weird. Or rather, she was weird. She hadn't always been this way. Just last year she'd been captain of the junior varsity volleyball team and slated for a good spot on varsity. She was popular and confident and outgoing and beautiful. Ed had wanted to ask her out since freshman year but… she'd had a boyfriend then – going steady with the school's football star. Ed hadn't had a chance. So he'd admired her from afar – drawn to those bright blue, laughing eyes.

They had been friends though – study partners at least. Her grades were almost as good as his and so they'd spent a lot of time together working on class projects together. He wouldn't go so far as to say they were close but they could at least talk.

Now though… she was different. Something had changed during the summer before and no one was really sure what it was. She'd come back to school a stranger, out of place in what had once been her element. She quit the volleyball team and broke up with her boyfriend within three days of starting back. She stopped spending time with her old friends and started hanging with a new crowd. It wasn't a _bad_ crowd per say. None of them were the type to do drugs or get into dangerous situations. They were just… weird, like she was. It was such a mixed bag too. From what Ed could tell, Wendy's new group consisted of one computer nerd, one guy who was big into cars and machines, one girl from the glee club, and Wendy, the former volleyball star. Talk about messing with the status quo. They weren't even all from their year. Ed didn't know any of the others very well but it was still odd that he couldn't figure out the connection between them.

And on top of all that – Wendy now avoided him like the plague. He had thought that after giving her some time to get over her break up, he might have a shot at asking her out… but no. He wouldn't feel comfortable asking her now. She'd never go for it, not when she couldn't bear to even hold a two minute conversation with him.

 _Briiing!_

The bell rang, startling Ed out of his thoughts, and ten seconds later every door in the hallway burst open and a flood of students came pouring out. _So much for getting my locker cleared out before the crowd_. He thought. Putting his musings about Wendy aside, Ed started pushing his way through the throng of cheers and shouts and… yes; there was silly string and confetti.

* * *

The extra weight of all his school books in his backpack didn't stop Ed from easily dodging the water balloons being slung across the school yard. He'd always been fast – a natural talent which earned him the best times on the track team. Now it just saved him from getting soaked. He already had a gooey streak of pink silly string stuck in his hair – crowded hallways inhibited his dodging abilities – and he didn't want to have to explain soaked clothes to his mother as well.

Then again… he looked up at the dark clouds rolling in from the north. He might not be able to avoid getting wet after all. It was a bit early in the year for a thunderstorm but he could already hear the low rumble in the distance, warning that it was going to come down hard pretty soon. Ed didn't have an umbrella with him and it was a three mile walk between school and home. He hated taking the bus and probably wouldn't make it back to the bus loop before it left anyway. With a sigh, he started off down the sidewalk, resigning himself to the simple fact that he was probably going to get wet – he couldn't really dodge the rain after all.

A couple of guys from his history class joined him, talking about how hard the test was. Ed just shrugged off their complaints. He didn't think it was that difficult but he'd learned long ago that he wasn't exactly normal when it came to academics. Eventually the topic changed to summer plans and then to the weather as the clouds rolled closer and finally blocked out the sun.

One of the guys suggested they all stop at McDonalds and wait it out, instead of getting soaked, but Ed begged off. There was no way to know how long the storm would last. He didn't want to be stuck there late, or have to call his dad for a ride. If he just kept going, he could probably make it home before the worst of the storm hit. With a wave to his friends and plans made to meet up next week, he continued down the way to his little home in Hillside Park.

"No stargazing tonight, I guess." He mumbled to himself, glad that they hadn't left the telescope out the night before.

The wind picked up quickly, tossing leaves and sand about every which way. Trees bent and swayed in the wake of strong gusts as the sky grew darker – a deep purple with angry splotches of black. When the first bolt of lightning struck less than a mile away, Ed started to doubt his decision to keep walking home. Not that he could do anything about it now. There weren't any restaurants or stores nearby and he still had a mile and a half to go. Unless…

He looked to his right where a high chain-linked fence and a red "No Trespassing" sign were usually enough to keep people out of the old power plant. The place had shut down years ago when they switched the whole city over to the new plant on the other side of town. They didn't even keep a guard on the place anymore since there wasn't really much to protect – just some old machinery and a few empty warehouses. The cops swung by every now and then to keep unruly kids from making trouble there. Ed had never tried to get in there himself.

But the plant stood between him and his neighborhood. If he cut through the middle, he could cut half a mile off of his trip and maybe beat the storm. He kept walking beside the fence for half a minute more, undecided, until another flash of lightening, closer this time, made up his mind.

He flung his backpack over the fence first, silently apologizing to his books when they hit hard on the other side. He wouldn't be surprised if _something_ had broken – hopefully not his pens; he didn't want to deal with spilled ink. Luckily his cell phone and wallet were in his pocket.

Ed started climbing just as the first few drops of rain fell on his cheeks. It started as a hard and heavy drizzle. "Not too bad." He commented as he paused at the top. Then the clouds opened up. Ed frowned as his shirt soaked through and his hair became plastered against his face. "I spoke too soon."

There was nothing for it though. He swung his legs over the fence and dropped down on the other side. After retrieving his backpack, he started across the already muddy grounds of the power plant. His sneakers were going to be ruined, squelching, as they were, through the muck. Ed figured he was well on his way to looking like a drowned rat and his mom was probably going to make him strip down to his shorts on the back porch before letting him inside the house.

Thunder rumbled almost constantly as bright flashes continued to light up the sky. Ed wasn't particularly worried until…

 _Crack!_

A bolt of lightning struck one of the nearby transmission towers, startling Ed into a frozen crouch. Breathing heavily, he looked up at the pole, noting with gratitude the lightning rods situated at the tops of every tall structure in the plant. And it suddenly dawned on him just where he was and what a precarious position he'd put himself in.

"I'm in a power plant… during a lightning storm. Real smart. Okay, so it's a dead power plant but does that make it safer or… more dangerous?" Ed found himself wishing he'd bothered to research electricity and lightning. "It'll be alright. I've just got to get through here and… climb a metal fence. Right. I'll figure that out when I get there. For now, just… don't touch anything."

He moved, carefully now, wincing every time another bolt of lightning struck nearby. He was really starting to wish he'd gone to McDonalds with the guys. He could be enjoying a Big Mac and a Coke right now instead of slugging his way through the mud with the threat of electrocution looming – literally – right overhead.

Finally, Ed spotted the fence on the other side of the plant. It was hard enough to see through the rain but now he had a more pressing issue – how to get over the fence without getting barbequed. He ducked under the awning of one of the warehouses to escape the deluge and give himself a chance to think.

 _Bang!_

Ed jumped again, but it wasn't lightening this time. One of the doors on the warehouse had swung open suddenly and loudly when the wind slammed it against the side of the building. But why had it opened in the first place? Ed leaned forward, peering through the dim light. Was someone there? He'd thought this place was abandoned.

But, sure enough, a head and shoulders poked through the opening a moment later. And, as if encountering another person there wasn't strange enough, there was something downright creepy about this guy's look. Dark, greasy hair, with a greenish hue given off by another flash of lightening, spiked into sharp points; if it wasn't hair, Ed might have thought it was actually a weapon of some sort. The man had a feral look in his eyes and a menacing grin which would have prompted Ed to run if he wasn't worried about giving away his position. If he stood still, maybe the creep wouldn't notice him. This was _not_ someone Ed wanted to mess with.

"Hah – pretty nasty out here. Check out that light show!" The man said. Even his voice was slimy.

Ed cringed and looked about for an escape route even as he hoped that the guy would just hurry up and go back inside. There was another voice from within, though Ed couldn't make out the words. How many people were in there? And just what had he gotten himself into?

"Lame…" the creep commented in reply to whatever had been said. Then he frowned sharply and turned, instantly zeroing in on Ed's presence.

Ed froze and gulped, wide-eyed as the man stared him down. The frown morphed once more, back into that terrifying grin which somehow suggested to Ed that he was being hunted. "What's this?" the slimy voice asked just as a cold drop of rain slid beneath Ed's collar and down his spine.

 _Not good_. Ed thought. _That's what this is._

"You lost, pipsqueak?"

 _Pipsqueak_? Ed bit his tongue to keep himself from blowing up at the slight against his height. He wasn't _that_ short – not anymore anyway. He cleared his throat and decided to talk to the guy – maybe they'd let him go if they knew he didn't mean any harm. "N-no. Just taking a short cut." He replied with as much confidence as he could muster. He wasn't some kid – he was seventeen. He could totally talk his way out of this… right?

If anything, the creep's grin grew even wider. "A short cut, huh? Well, it might be even shorter than you think." He took a step back to call in through the door. "Hey, Sal! Get out here. We've got ourselves a little visitor."

A moment later another person stepped through the doorway, though Ed was surprised to find that this one was… a child. The boy couldn't have been older than ten and yet… somehow, his face was even colder and more terrifying than the man's. He looked somewhat bored with the whole situation, completely indifferent to the raging storm just beyond the awning. He didn't even look at Ed at first, instead fixing his stern gaze upon the man. "Do not call me by that name, Envy."

"Envy" cringed and sneered at the boy. "Don't call _me_ Envy. The name's Enoch, got it kid?" Somehow, Ed doubted that was his real name either, but envy wasn't a name at all – it was a vice. "You and Kinsley are both freaks, you know that?" Enoch continued at a mutter, but the one call Sal wasn't listening.

The boy turned to Ed now and his eyes – they were red, Ed noted with a start – narrowed. _He's just a kid._ Ed thought. _So why does he give me the creeps?_

There was a long moment during which nothing was said – a stalemate of sorts while Ed wracked his brain for a good solution to this situation. Enoch or Envy or whatever his name was, started inspecting his fingernails casually and Sal just stood there, starting at Ed. Lightning flashed wildly through the sky and the wind blew sharply against them, chilling Ed through his already soaked clothes.

Since the man and the boy weren't actually doing anything at the moment, Ed wondered if maybe he could make a break for the fence. He'd probably have to leave his backpack behind – it would only slow him down. Without it, surely he would be fast enough to…

"Fullmetal Alchemist."

The boy spoke so suddenly and so softly, that Ed almost missed it. The words… didn't make any sense at all. But there was something in Sal's eyes – a look of… recognition? which didn't really make sense. Ed had never seen the kid before. He was sure of it.

Enoch pried his eyes away from his fingers and looked at Ed, then at Sal, then back at Ed again with an expression of disbelief. "What? Him? You're serious? This little pipsqueak?"

 _Little and pipsqueak?_ Ed clenched his hands into fists. _This guy's just asking for trouble._

"Retrieve him, Envy."

 _Or not._ Ed's eyes grew wide as he realized that he was about to be kidnapped or abducted or… something bad! Something very, very bad.

"My name is Enoch!" The man snarled, but he was grinning like a beast as he lunged forward, reaching for his prey.

Ed grabbed the first weapon he could get his hands on – his backpack – and swung it around quickly. The combined weight of seven heavy textbooks slammed into Enoch and sent the man stumbling backwards giving Ed the chance he needed – to run.

He took off towards the fence at a full sprint through the pouring rain. It wasn't even a full hundred meters – thirteen seconds, max, and then the climb. He could make it. He wasn't even worried about electrocution at this point. He just wanted to get out of there and get home and… probably call the cops although, then he'd have to admit to the trespassing but really, what was more important here? He was good kid, straight A student; they'd give him a slap on the wrist and warning but hopefully they'd throw these creeps in jail – or at least juvie for the kid. Guys like this had to have a rap sheet – probably had a meth lab set up in the warehouse or something. And it was just his luck that he had to stumble upon them in the middle of this terrible storm – and his own stupid fault for trying to take a shortcut. _Not_ a good way to start off summer vacation.

He was almost there. Ten meters – nine – eight – something caught his foot and he went down, face first in the mud. "Damn! That hurt!" Ed pulled himself up, spitting mud out of his mouth, and spun around to see what had caught him. Enoch had him by the ankle – how the man had caught him, Ed had no idea – and was reaching out, trying to pull his victim closer. Ed kicked out with both feet, aiming for the face, trying to get free.

One good strike to the nose sent Enoch wheeling backward but he wasn't down for the count. With both feet free, Ed struggled to stand up, slipping twice in the wet muck. Then Enoch was over him again, blood dripping from his nose. Ed was still on the ground, cornered now, with the fence at his back and no room to maneuver. He was really, _really_ starting to wish he'd gone to McDonalds now. And if only he had taken that karate class over the summer, back in middle school, instead of archery. Archery had sounded so much cooler at the time – fat lot of good it did him now!

He was dead – he was totally dead or, at least, kidnapped… tortured… sold into slavery – maybe they'd send him someplace exotic like South America – they had human trafficking in South America, right? Yeah, sure. Optimistic thoughts. It'll be like a vacation. Just don't think about what they _do_ to human trafficking victims… _ugh, I'd be better off dead! Sorry Mom, Dad. I love you._

He wasn't giving up though. He kept fighting, kicking, punching, squirming out of every hold Enoch tried to put him in. _Mud wrestling definitely has its upsides._ But the man was bigger than him, if only by a little, and obviously well trained. Ed wasn't going to be able to hold his own for very long. He needed help and he didn't think any was coming.

At least, not until a sudden force plowed into Enoch, knocking the man aside so suddenly that Ed was still swinging and kicking for several seconds after his opponent was gone. He looked about frantically while, at the same time, using the fence to pull himself to his feet.

Lightning flashed and Ed spied Enoch, sprawled off to the right where he'd been thrown. And between them stood another form, posed in a fighting stance. It was hard to see the newcomer through the rain and his back was to Ed so he couldn't make out his face, but he _looked_ like a teenager – about Ed's age – wearing black slacks and a light colored dress shirt with a tie – nice clothes now splattered with mud. But the stranger didn't seem to care. He'd thrown himself into their brawl and now stood, ready to fight again, like this was something he did on a daily basis.

"Back off, Envy!" Ed's rescuer called out using the name Enoch seemed to loathe.

The man gave the expected response. "How many times do I have to tell you freaks?! Don't call me that!"

"If you don't want the name than why do you continue to associate with them? You don't have to, you know?" The teenager replied in a calm voice, although he didn't drop his stance. "You can go back to your old life. You can be Enoch. You don't have to do what they say."

Ed blinked. Somehow… this whole situation had just gotten weirder.

Enoch stood up casually and made a show of thinking over the matter. "Hmm… let's see… power and strength versus not having to put up with an annoying nickname. You're right. Tough choice there." His grinned turned feral. "Get out of my way, puppy! You're blocking my prey!"

The stranger didn't move. "I won't let you touch him."

"Aw. How cute. The puppy is playing hero today. Where's your watch dog? He didn't want to join you?" Enoch frowned when his taunts were ignored. Then he smiled again and nodded his head back towards the warehouse where – Ed looked – the boy, Sal, had apparently gone back inside. "You know… Sal said that the pipsqueak here is Fullmetal – that true, puppy?"

The teen's hands clenched tightly and his feet shifted minutely in the mud. Ed still couldn't see his face so he had no idea what he was thinking, but obviously "Fullmetal" was supposed to mean something to him.

"It doesn't matter." The teen responded and, for once, there was an edge to his voice as though this had riled him where the other taunts had failed. "He's locked – he's of no use to you."

 _Locked_? It was like they were speaking in code or something almost like… Ed suddenly found himself hoping he hadn't just stumbled into some psychotic, live action, role playing game. He knew there were some pretty wild ones out there and if this was one… it would spread, like wildfire, throughout the community – like that stupid zombie game! He'd spend his whole summer at home before he had to deal with more people throwing socks at him.

"I'm sure we can find a way to remedy that. In fact… wouldn't you like to help us? I'm sure you'd love to have your precious older –"

"Shut up!" The teen was mad now. "I said I won't let you touch him. Now either leave or get ready to fight!"

"Well, if that's how it is." Enoch didn't waste any time getting ready. He rushed his opponent quickly and then they were both moving too fast for Ed to really keep up. The kid was good – really good, ducking and dodging and rolling and striking with incredible accuracy and speed and somehow, always managing to keep himself between Enoch and Ed. His clothes were likely ruined at this point as the rain continued to pound down around them and add to the mud at their feet, but that didn't seem to matter.

Had Ed been in his right mind, he might have used this opportunity to escape. The fence was right there. He could just climb over and run the rest of the way home and strip down to his shorts on the back porch and take a hot shower and climb into bed and forget that any of this had ever happened. Instead, he just stood there, wondering if this was really happening. Did… things like this really happen in real life – like, outside of video games and action movies and anime? Was he missing some over-arching plot that was supposed to make this all make sense? Was he… dreaming maybe?

And then, something happened which completely negated every bit of scientific knowledge Ed had thought he'd known about the world. One moment, they were fighting and the next… Ed wasn't really sure what happened. The teen pushed Enoch away and did a quick back flip, putting more space between them before squatting down and… drawing, he was _drawing_ in the mud in the middle of a fight. And then, as though this was perfectly normal, a bright flash of blue light came up from the ground along with… a hand. Yup, that's what it was – a giant hand made out of the mud itself which reached out and plucked Enoch up right off the ground and held him about five feet in the air.

Ed didn't have time to make sense of these events, however, before his strange rescuer was next to him, grabbing his arm, and pulling him along in the rain, back through the power plant. Forget the lightning. The lightning had stopped being scary a long time ago.

"C'mon!" The boy shouted. "That won't hold him for long."

Ed supposed it was the actuality of someone speaking _to him_ which finally jarred his brain back into a somewhat functional mode. He didn't stop running – he definitely didn't want to face Enoch again – but he did want answers. "What's going on!? Who are you? Who are they? What do they want with me? What was that – that _thing_ you did with the mud and the light and…"

Then the stranger did something… strange. He looked back at Ed… and smiled. It wasn't a creepy smile either. It was a genuine, friendly, happy-to-see-you smile, the kind of smile that made you like a person right away, without knowing a thing about them – basically, the exact opposite of Enoch's smile. "Call me Al. And don't worry. You're safe now, Jarred."

Ed blinked – there wasn't much else he could do to express his complete bafflement with this whole situation. Then… they were at the front entrance to the power plant and the gate was open and there was a car – a hot red Ford Mustang, Ed noted absently – and they were climbing into the car – Ed tried not to touch anything with his mud soaked body but it was pretty much useless; Al didn't seem to care anyway – and speeding off down the road.

And all Ed could think was that he really should have gone to McDonalds.


	3. Heir to the Richart Corporation

**Unlocked**

In the aftermath of Promised Day, two worlds collided in a way that no one expected. Now the people of Amestris are divided and in this world, the ultimate taboo is not human transmutation but the intentional unlocking of another person's memories – for, once they remember, they can never go back.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

 **Rating:** This story is rated T

* * *

 **Chapter 3, Heir to the Richart Corporation**

The bathroom was huge.

Not that surprising considering the rest of the house, but seriously! Who needed two sinks, a Jacuzzi bath, and a large shower in what his gracious host had called "the guest bathroom?" The place even had its own walk-in closet – filled with towels and extra supplies mostly. Ed hadn't been snooping – no not at all. At least there was only one toilet and it looked fairly normal other than being automatic. The sinks had motion sensors too.

Nevertheless, Ed was relieved to finally be clean again and not tracking mud all over the pristine white carpets of his rescuer's home. He stepped out of the shower with a fluffy towel around his waist and another in his hands, still drying his hair. While he worked on that, he eyed the light fixtures on the ceiling wondering what was wrong with good old fashioned light bulbs. It was a bathroom for crying out loud! Bathrooms do not require chandeliers.

"Sheesh, who is this guy?"

"Al" hadn't offered much information beyond his name during their drive to "his place." Ed had assumed they were going to an apartment or a regular house – certainly not the mansion they were in now. The guard at the gate had waved them on through immediately and Al had pulled into a large garage – not two or three car. No, there were at least six vehicles in that space and room for more. The Mustang wasn't the nicest one either – well certainly not now, covered in mud, both inside and out – but Ed was pretty sure he'd seen a Lamborghini in there. He probably would have spent more time drooling over the luxury cars if Al hadn't dragged him inside. As it was, he'd been in too much shock to do more than gape and stare as a butler – probably named Jeeves or something cause he totally looked the part – was waved aside and Ed was told not to "mind the mess", since they hadn't been expecting company – the place was spotless from what he could tell – and not to worry about the mud because the carpets were getting cleaned tomorrow anyway. Then he'd been ushered into the "guest bathroom," provided with clean towels and a change of clothes, and promptly left alone to get cleaned up.

His world had gone from perfectly normal to downright bizarre in less than two hours and he got the feeling that there would be more strange surprises in store for him before the day was through.

But at least he was clean.

Ed dragged the towel down over his face to grab the last drops of water and then blinked at the streak of red marring the perfect white of the towels. He looked in the mirror to find the culprit. There was a gash on his left cheek, about two inches long and not very deep, but bleeding steadily now that he'd scrubbed away whatever blood-clotting – and mud-clotting – had kept it hidden before. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten it – probably during his oh-so-elegant face-plant during the fight with that Enoch/Envy guy.

Ed grabbed a wad of toilet paper to hold to his cheek while he searched for a Band-Aid. He opened the medicine cabinet, then a few drawers under the counter and was a little perturbed to not find a first-aid kit in the room.

"Extra toothbrushes, toothpaste, razors, a dozen fancy soaps and shampoos… bubble bath – but not a single Band-Aid." He sighed and pulled the wad from his cheek with a wince – funny how it only started hurting _after_ he noticed that it was there – and leaned forward to inspect the wound more closely in the mirror. Blood started to bead on the surface immediately. Leaving it open wasn't an option – he'd drip blood everywhere – and no way was he walking around with toilet paper on his cheek until it stopped. He was just going to have to ask. Surely rich people kept a first aid kit _somewhere_.

He got dressed quickly, taking extra care not to get blood on the green t-shirt, and frowned when he realized that the black jeans were just about an inch too long; but at least they fit otherwise. He threw the bloodied towel, and the other towel, and his dirty clothes in the hamper as he'd been instructed and padded out of the room in the socks Al had provided. His shoes were apparently in the process of being cleaned as his clothes would be shortly.

Pausing in the hallway, Ed looked around with one hand still holding a ball of toilet paper against his face. He wasn't… really sure where to go. White carpet extended in both directions - one way spotted with mud indicating the way they'd come from. But he was pretty sure that Al had gone the other way when he left. Still, that didn't tell Ed where he was supposed to go after getting cleaned up. The house was huge and he didn't really want to get lost. It probably wouldn't be good to go snooping around either. Al knew he was here and so did "Jeeves", but no one else did and he didn't want to run into Al's parents or something and have to try and explain what he was doing in their house. _He_ wasn't even sure what he was doing there.

Suddenly, the smell of _something_ cooking wafted past Ed's nose and his stomach grumbled. Lunch had been too long ago and he hadn't had his afternoon snack. "McDonalds, right. _Why_ didn't I go to McDonalds?"His stomach growled again, prompting him to go ahead and follow his nose. Where there was food, there was probably a kitchen and where there was a kitchen, there were probably people. "Maybe Al will be there." Ed reasoned. But even if Al wasn't there – food had just become Ed's new priority.

He was somewhat surprised to not meet anyone in the hall along the way, but sure enough Ed's nose led him straight to the kitchen – a rather large and well appointed kitchen to match the rest of the house, with stainless steel appliances and marble countertops. And there was Al, now clean and dressed in fresh clothes – a grey shirt and blue jeans which did _not_ match the rest of the house – with a chef's apron tied around his waist, busy stirring something in a pot of the stove.

Ed blinked at the sight – having been sure that a team of cooks and maids would be preparing the meal instead of this teenager who was obviously the child of some ridiculously wealthy businessman or movie star… or maybe he was Bruce Wayne Jr. Sure – Batman's kid would totally live in a place like this.

Al glanced up briefly and spotted Ed in the doorway. He smiled. "Oh, good. You're just in time for stew. I hope you don't mind – it's canned. I didn't have time to make it from scratch."

"Um… yeah. That's fine." Ed replied robotically while his thoughts were still catching up. _From scratch? Is he serious?_ He brought his hand down from his cheek and cringed when the paper caught and pulled on his injury. _Right, better take care of this._ "Uh… do you have a Band-Aid or something?"

"Hmm?" Al looked up again, frowning this time in confusion which quickly morphed into a shocked gasp. "You're bleeding!" He reached to turn off the stove and then moved the pot to a different burner before crossing over to Ed and grabbing his chin to inspect the wound more closely.

Ed baulked at the sudden invasion of his personal space and tried to back up, only to slam his back into the wall. Al didn't seem to notice, focused as he was on Ed's injury. "Um… it's really not that bad." Ed tried and apparently failed to explain. He was promptly ushered onto a stool by the bar and Al disappeared briefly. He returned, moments later, with a large case clearly marked as a first aid kit by the big red cross on the lid. The lid came off and a fantastic collection of pads and swabs and wraps and ointments were spread across the counter.

Al grabbed a small, square package and tore it open. Then he started dabbing Ed's face with what turned out to be a swab of rubbing alcohol. "Shit! That hurts." Ed tried to pull away but Al just grabbed his chin again and kept him there.

"Just hold still, you big baby." Al scolded lightly and kept working, applying some Neosporin next and then preparing a few butterfly stitched to keep it closed.

"Hey!" Ed started to complain some more but the soft look in Al's eyes and the gentle smile on his lips gave him pause. He knew that look. It was the same look his mother used to give him whenever he fell down and skinned his knees as a kid. It was the kind of attention someone gave when caring for something precious.

But it was more than that… there was something ridiculously familiar about those eyes. He'd seen them before even though he knew he'd never met Al before today. Ed almost laughed when he realized what it was.

The color.

Al's eyes were a bright yellowish brown, almost gold – just like Ed's own eyes. Not a very common color, certainly. Ed had gotten the trait from his grandmother and he'd never actually met another person with eyes like his, though he knew he couldn't be the only. It was just a really weird coincidence to find that specific color in the eyes of someone he'd just met under the _strangest_ of circumstances.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Ed was starting to think he'd fallen into some weird dream, except that his cheek hurt and you weren't supposed to feel any pain in dreams.

"Jarred?"

"Hmm?" Ed blinked, startled out of his thoughts to find that Al had finished bandaging his cheek and was starting to repack the first aid kit while simultaneously looking his patient over for further injury. "Oh, no. I'm fine. Thanks. And… it's just Ed."

Al let out a small gasp, almost silent; Ed would have missed it if he hadn't been so close. He looked up at the sound. The other's boy's eyes were open wider than they had been before and his mouth was hanging open, just a bit. He was frozen, with one hand still in the box and the other reaching across the counter for a pair of surgical scissors.

The pause seemed to linger longer than reality when, a moment later, Al started moving again – totally casual, as though nothing was wrong. "Really? You go by Ed?"

"Ye-ah." Ed drew out the word, eyeing Al skeptically. "Is that a problem?"

Al shook his head quickly and grinned, just a bit too wide. "Not at all. It's great! I mean… It's a good nickname." Al cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment as he close the lid on the kit. He looked down at his hands, still rest on the case. "Um… if you don't mind me asking – why do you go by Ed?"

That was a weird question. Ed shrugged. "I dunno. Why do you go by Al?" Of course, this was under the assumption that Al was a nickname and not his full name. Though Ed doubted that parents as rich as Al's had to be would give their kid such a short name. He was probably an Alexander or and Alfonso or something noble sounding like that. Still, the point was valid – who cared why went by Ed. It was his name, plain and simple.

Al seemed to figure that out quick enough. He laughed and rubbed the back of his head in self-depreciation. "It's short for Allen." He admitted with a sideways grin. "But I see your point. I just… well Ed isn't usually a nickname you hear associated with Jarred."

"Better than Jar." Ed winced at the very sound of it. "Or Jerry."

"Or JayJay?" Al suggested with a smirk.

"Ugh! Definitely not." Ed laughed. "Though I think the worst was J-Rad."

Even Al cringed at that one. "Really?"

"Yeah. My dad didn't like those options either. He picked Ed."

"Oh." Al stood up and took the first aid kit off the counter, a contemplative frown creasing his eyebrows. "But… Your dad's name is Jarred too."

"Well yeah, but… wait." Ed scowled suddenly. "How did you know that?" Al froze again, for barely a second, glancing at Ed peripherally. He didn't answer the question though and Ed's glare darkened. "How do you know my dad's name? How do you know _my_ name?" Al bit his lip and gulped but stayed silent. "Who are you?" Ed continued, standing up and planting his hands on the counter.

"I'm… just a friend." Allen replied finally. "A friend, helping someone in need."

"In need, my ass. You _knew_ those creeps at the power plant. You've obviously fought them before – what are you? Some kind of vigilante? Think you're Batman? You're certainly rich enough. You've got a freaking Lamborghini in your garage! What next? You gonna tell me that your butler's name is Alfred instead of Jeeves? Got a bat cave buried under this mansion? Your parents were murdered and you're out for revenge?"

Allen winced, noticeably, and turned to face Ed directly, cutting off his rant. For several moments, they just stood there – Ed glaring and Al looking back with a slightly sad look in his eyes. "My name is Allen Richart." He finally said. And then he turned and left the room.

Ed wanted to bite his tongue off. Of all the stupid, insensitive things for him to say to… Allen Richart. _The_ Allen Richart – heir to the Richart Corporation and victim of a terrible hit and run car accident just over a year ago. It had been all over the news. No, his parents hadn't been murdered.

But they _were_ dead.

Ed sat back down on his stool and lowered his face into his hands, feeling like a complete jerk – like a worm, lower than dirt. Here Al had been nothing but kind to him – saving his life, giving him a ride and clean clothes, even bandaging his wound – and all Ed had done in return was remind the kid of the one thing he'd probably spent the past year trying to move past.

Ed thought back to what he knew about the Richart family. They were wealthy and kind. William Richart had built his company from the ground up and done a lot of good for their community, providing jobs and making large donations to not-for-profit organizations. The Richart's had helped to clean up their city. They'd even funded the new power plant which provided cleaner, safer electricity to all of the towns in their area.

The accident had been a huge blow to the community. The family had been on their way home from some charity event when they were struck from behind and shoved off the road, into a ravine. The car probably rolled five times before it slammed into a tree. By the time they were found, William and Allison Richart were already dead and their son was in a coma.

Everyone said it was a miracle that Allen had survived. As it was, he spent the next three weeks barely hanging on. The whole city had seemed to be waiting with baited breath for news of either his death or recovery. He'd hit his head so badly - the doctors were convinced that he would never come out of the coma. Then, one day, he just woke up – perfectly fine besides a broken arm and some badly bruised ribs. There didn't seem to be any lasting brain damage either except for the amnesia.

Allen Richart had lost his memory. Ed remembered reading an article about it. They said that Allen couldn't remember a thing about his life – his name, his address, his birth date… not even his parents. It was a sad thing – to have no memory of the family he had lost. No matter what the doctors did, they couldn't get the boy to remember.

Then there were the other articles – the ones printed in gossip rags and circulated around on Facebook – which suggested that Allen had completely lost his mind, claiming to be an alien from another world or some such nonsense. Well, obviously he'd been confused when he woke up. He'd probably said a lot of things which didn't make much sense at the time. But that wasn't his fault. Ed couldn't believe the cruel things they'd written about the boy.

Though really, he wasn't much better – coming in here and acting like a complete ass. A lot of things suddenly made sense – like the fact that this mansion was so empty. Obviously, one teenager living alone didn't need a lot of help. He probably didn't want a lot of people there. No, if Ed had to guess, he'd wager that Al was completely alone here, in this big house – except for Jeeves. After all, there had to be some sort of responsible adult around. Not that Al seemed the type to get into trouble much.

Then again… Ed remembered the wild fight in the power plant and the crazy light show with the mud hand and the squealing tires of the mud-soaked Mustang. Maybe Al was more of a trouble maker than he appeared.

Something tapped down on the table, prompting Ed to look up and blink at the full bowl of hot stew which was now sitting in front of him. He turned and spied Al, standing by the stove again and ladling out another bowl for himself. "I didn't hear you come back in."

The other boy looked up and caught his eyes with a soft smile. "Oh, sorry. I like being able to move about silently." That was… a weird explanation, but Ed didn't comment on it further. Al gestured back to Ed's bowl with the ladle. "I thought you might be hungry."

Ed picked up his spoon. "Um… yeah. Thanks." He took a bite and then another. Canned stew might as well have been homemade for as hungry as felt right now. Al came over and sat down next to him, then began eating at a slower pace, watching Ed all the while with a bemused look on his face.

"Do you want some more?" Al asked when Ed finished eating.

More sounded awesome. "Yes. Please." Al took his bowl back to the stove and filled it up a second time. When he returned, Ed didn't start eating right away. Instead, he watched Al. It was…weird, the way the other teen ate. Not super proper or demure or anything hoity-toity like that. It was just… he seemed to savor every bite like he'd never tasted anything so delicious. Sure, canned stew was good but… it was just canned stew.

Ed considered his own bowl for a moment before taking a slow and careful bite of his own – letting the gravy slide over his tongue and enjoying the textures of the meat and vegetables. An… interesting experience to be sure but he didn't think he could ever get used to eating that way all the time. Still, he didn't shovel this bowl down as he had the first. He stirred his stew for a bit – feeling the guilt for his earlier words continue to eat at him with the same ferocity that he usually put into eating food.

Al was acting like it had never happened. He'd gone. He'd come back. He'd served the food and then he'd gotten seconds for Ed before even finishing his own first bowl. After what Ed had said…

Ed grit his teeth, knowing what had to be done. "Allen, I…" The other boy looked up and Ed plowed ahead. "Thank you, for the food and for… you know, saving my life and everything else. I… I'm sorry. For what I said before. You've done nothing but help me and I acted like a real jerk."

Al didn't say anything for a moment, just watching Ed with that odd, indecipherable look on his face. Then he smiled. "It's okay."

Ed blinked. "What?"

"It's fine." Al shrugged. "I don't blame you for being upset and confused. I would be too if I'd gone through everything you have today."

"Yeah, but what I said… about your parents…" Ed wasn't sure why he was arguing except that it didn't feel right to get off so easy. "I mean, I didn't know who you were then but it was still really awful."

Al finished his soup and stood to get another bowl. "Like you said, you didn't know. And besides, it's not as awful as you might think."

"What… what do you mean?"

Al's smile, this time, wasn't nearly as sad as Ed expected it to be. "It's hard to feel pain… over the loss of someone you don't remember."

It was one thing to see it in the news. It was another to hear it firsthand. "So you really don't remember anything?"

Al shook his head, bringing his bowl back over and resuming his seat next to Ed. Apparently, he was used to people knowing his story from his name alone – he probably got questions like this all the time. Ed was torn between curiosity and that weird nagging, which sounded too much like his mother, telling him to leave the boy alone and not ask. Luckily, Al didn't seem to mind talking to him about it. "I can't remember a thing about my life before I woke up in the hospital. Everything I know about myself now, I've learned since then. I know facts of course and I know how to _do_ things – I just don't remember the days, the moments… all of those personal details which make up a life. I know who my parents were… but probably only a little more than you know who they were. I don't remember knowing them… loving them… and so it's really hard to miss them now that their gone."

Ed couldn't imagine what that was like – losing his parents and then not being able to remember them; having everyone tell you that you were supposed to be sad, to miss them, but… not having anything to attach it to – to make them real and not just someone you read about or saw on TV. "Do you wish you could remember?"

Al just shrugged. "Sure. I guess. But even with everything that people have told me about my life… it still doesn't seem real. Even now… I feel so out of place in my own home. I've lived here for a year now and I've gotten used to a lot of what's expected of me – I'm heir to the Corporation so I'm supposed to keep up my image even though my uncle's in charge until I turn eighteen – but it's like I'm living someone else's life." He paused, a looked up with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"Nah. It's alright" Ed moved to take another bite of his stew, only to find that his bowl was empty again.

Al laughed. "Want another?"

"Uh… no that's fine." Ed didn't want to seem like a pig.

"It's alright. There's plenty." Al started to stand and reach for Ed's bowl but Ed jumped up and grabbed it before he could.

"I've got it. Sheesh, you don't have to keep serving me. You've got to eat too." Ed said, moving across the kitchen. Al chuckled but didn't press the issue. Ed got his stew and walked back to the bar. He paused in sitting down though. He still had so many questions and he really needed some answers at this point. "So, um…" he hesitated, not wanting to say something stupid again. As long as he was patient and didn't lose his cool, it should be alright. "How _do_ you know me, Al?"

Al sighed heavily and went back to stirring his soup. Ed got the feeling that the other teen was trying to come up with a good way to answer, so he sat down and started eating again while he waited. Two minutes passed before Al said anything. "You're important, Ed."

Ed almost snorted in his stew. Then he looked at Al with one eyebrow cocked up in confusion. "Important? How's that?"

Al grimaced and chewed on his words for another minute. "It's… hard to explain. I've known about you for awhile now but I can't really say why without telling you things I'm not supposed to. Technically, you shouldn't even be here now. I just didn't know where else to take you."

Somehow, that answer had left Ed with even more questions. But there was one obvious answer. "You could have taken me home."

But Al shook his head. "No. Not while the homunculi are out looking for you. They don't know where you live and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Homunculi?" There was an unfamiliar word. Though it sounded like something out of a horror film.

Al gasped. "Um, I mean… They aren't _really_ homunculi! Not anymore, anyway. We just call them that because, well… shoot! I'm really messing this up." Al rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. "I've already said too much." Then he sighed as though resigned to something. "I guess there's not much I can do about it now. You can't go home until the homunculi clear out – should only take a few days. They rarely stay in one place for very long. And really, after everything you've seen today, you're probably better off learning the truth instead of trying to piece it together on your own. Half-truths are more dangerous than the truth after all. But then… I'm not entirely sure you'll believe me." He finished with a smile and a laugh which suggested that the "truth" was going to be pretty wild.

"At this point… I think I might believe just about anything." Ed admitted. Any answer, no matter how farfetched, would be good at this point. "But first… you said I can't go home. What about my parents? They're going to be worried about me."

"Oh." Al thought about it for a moment. "Well, we'll just give them a call and let them know you're alright and you're just spending the weekend with a friend. No big deal."

Ed eyed the strange, amnesiac heir to a billion dollar company skeptically. The kid clearly wasn't used to dealing with parents who wanted to know all the who's and where's and why's. Ed might be seventeen and his parents trusted him, but they weren't quite ready to let him fly the nest just yet. As their only child, he figured they had the right to hold on tight for a little longer. "You know it's not going to be that simple, right?"

"Don't worry about it, Ed. I'll take care of everything."


	4. Not LARPing

**Unlocked**

In the aftermath of Promised Day, two worlds collided in a way that no one expected. Now the people of Amestris are divided and in this world, the ultimate taboo is not human transmutation but the intentional unlocking of another person's memories – for, once they remember, they can never go back.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

 **Rating:** This story is rated T

* * *

 **Chapter 4, Not LARPing**

"Yeah, Mom. That's – what – happened. Just – like he said." Ed blinked, still in a daze even as he confirmed for his mother the elaborate tale Allen had spun involving slick roads, a deep mud puddle, and a thousand apologies from a very wealthy young man who just so happened to be fascinated by Ed's interest in science and wanted to take the time this weekend to introduce Ed to a few professors he knew from the science department at the University. The incredible thing was that everything Al said was true… at least the part about what had happened to bring Ed to the Richart Mansion. The roads _were_ wet and slick and Al had done a bit of swerving. Ed had, most assuredly, been covered in mud even if it wasn't Al's fault. Al never actually said that it was his fault. But he did apologize for the inconvenience of not getting Ed home in time for dinner and there was just enough implication that Patricia Hohens was able to infer for herself exactly what Allen wanted her to _think_ had happened.

But not once did Allen actually lie. Even as he concocted the tale he was on his computer emailing professors and arranging a meeting for the next day. And Mrs. Hohens was completely thrilled that her son had found a new friend in _the_ Allen Richart, such a polite young man and to think he wanted to help their Ed network with professors and possibly get him some good recommendations to go along with his already superb grades when he started applying for colleges in the fall.

Ed wasn't sure just how Al pulled it off, but by the time he hung up the phone his schedule was clear to spend the entire weekend – and then some, if necessary – hanging out with Allen Richart. "So we're really going to meet with your professor friends?" he asked, just for clarification.

"Of course," said Al. "If you want to anyway. But I'm sure you'll enjoy the meeting. Professor Curtis is a genius." He smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Something sad entered his gaze for a moment but it was gone before Ed could analyze it.

"How do you know him?" Ed asked. He walked idly over to the bookcase in the study they had migrated to before making the call to his parents. In addition to a large number of books, including a full set of leather-bound encyclopedias, a number of knickknacks also rested on the shelves. Several small cat statues peered out at him from beside the volumes.

"Her. She was my mother's teacher." Al answered, his focus back on the computer screen as he typed and clicked and did… whatever he was doing. "I guess my mom studied science at the University back before she met my dad. She and Teacher were really close and Teacher came to visit me a lot after the accident. I don't remember her from before but she's helped me a lot since then."

Ed picked up a neat little box, shaped like a treasure chest, opened it and then put it back when he found it empty. "You call her Teacher? That's kinda weird." He ran his fingers down the spines of the books, perusing their titles.

Al grinned sheepishly. "I know. She doesn't even like it when I call her that. It's a silly habit, I suppose." He clicked on something on the computer and the monitor flashed. "Alright. Come over here."

Ed looked and then walked over to sit in the extra, spinning, office chair next to Al's desk. "What's this?" He asked, peering at the image on the flat screen, a lion – or was it a dragon? – rampant on a green field. Above the crest, the web page title stood out in bold letters:

NEW AMESTRIS

And underneath, a smaller font underlined the links for user login and registration.

"This –" Al paused to offer a small, teasing grin. "is your portal to another world. Are you sure you want to proceed?"

"Do I get to chose between the blue pill and the red pill?"

Al blinked this time. "What?"

Ed stared at his new… friend, incredulously. "The Matrix? You know… Neo, Morpheus, Agent Smith… Keanu Reeves?"

"Oh! It's a movie! Right?"

"Ye-ah… I can't believe you've never seen it."

Al shrugged. "I probably have. I just don't remember. I'm still catching up on a lot of cultural references." Ed could have hit himself for making that blunder again. He would have if Al hadn't continued with a grin. "I understood your Batman comments though! Roy likes super hero movies."

"Well this Roy guy needs to expand his film base – and yours." Ed rolled his eyes and looked back at the computer screen. "Anyway, I'll take the red pill – what's New Amestris?"

Al nodded once, back on task, and took a deep breath. "To understand what New Amestris is – first you have to know what Amestris was." Then he clicked on the login link and typed his username into the first bar that appeared – ALPHONSE E – followed by his password in the second – *********.

"Alphonse?" Ed raised an eyebrow in question.

"Yes? – Oh! It's my Amestrian name. Don't worry. I'll explain that later." Al looked away for a moment and chewed on his lip before clicking something on the navigation bar which had appeared at the top of the screen. Ed didn't get a chance to look at the screen before it changed.

AMESTRIAN HISTORY

The title announced the page topic plainly in bold letters. Beneath, in a fancy font, several paragraphs continued down beyond the bottom of the page and the scroll bar indicated a good deal of reading material hidden below.

"Sorry, it's a bit long." Al commented, scooting his chair to the side to make room for Ed in front of the monitor. "But I think you'll understand faster if you just read it."

Ed nodded, glad that he liked reading to begin with. But he wasn't really sure what to make of what he found in the first paragraph or any of the ones below. It was written out like a novel or a history text book or something in between – but it had to be fiction. For starters, there was no such place as Amestris and alchemy was definitely something from Harry Potter. _Pretty sure I'm too old to get a letter from Hogwarts._ Ed quipped in his head but he didn't say anything out loud. Al probably wouldn't get it anyway. Instead, he focused on reading. It was a very interesting tale – if nothing else.

 _The country of Amestris lies south of Drachma and north of Aerugo, with Creta to the West and the Great Desert to the East. Amestris has long been a warring state, with conflicts erupting, throughout its history, along every border. Within, it is a country of superior alchemic advancement, military prowess, and amazing achievements in prosthetic technology. Its people are many, and varied between four cardinal regions. From the rolling hills of the east to the red mesas in the west, the mountain tundra of the north to the sub-tropical jungles of the south – it is a beautiful land which we all once called home._

It went on to describe more about the regions and its people, the governing body, the military, the State Alchemist, the automail, and even the food. Ed scanned through it all quickly, wondering all the while what this strange story had to do with Al, and with him, and with those weirdoes at the power plant. It wasn't until the very end that things started to tie together in… albeit, a very confusing and highly improbable way.

 _Spring, 1915 – the people of Amestris gathered for a momentous event, the first total solar eclipse to pass over our land in more than five hundred years. But something happened that day which would change everything. While much of what occurred in Central City is yet unknown, of this we are aware – Fuhrer King Bradley and an unknown group of villainous scoundrels set into motion a plot to destroy all of Amestris and her people. This plan was discovered by some of our military's finest, who led a coup in order to foil Bradley's design. The conclusion of this fierce battle was a strange, alchemical accident – its cause yet unknown – which somehow separated the souls of every Amestrian citizen from their own bodies and sent them through what alchemists are calling "The Gate," and into the world in which we now reside._

 _Our bodies, here in this new world, both are and are not our own. We share this space with our counterparts from this other world. For most, our consciousnesses remain locked within the minds of these new bodies. Those who have become unlocked, through either natural or alchemical means, find this world to be a daunting and frightening place. While our memories of life here remain, we are yet baffled by the harsh incongruities we find here compared to the lives we knew in Amestris. We are often alone – lost within a sea of people who may or may not have Amestrian souls buried somewhere within their minds. We are in conflict with ourselves as we try to balance the lives we now have with the desire to reclaim what we have lost. We seek out friends and loved ones, hoping to find one among them who is also unlocked and thus take solace._

 _Fellow Amestrians, do not despair for you are not alone. Scattered though we may be throughout this wide world, we have means here which would not have been available to us back home. The internet is a wondrous tool and if you have found your way to this site than you are one step closer to bridging the gap between us all. Welcome to New Amestris – your home away from home._

 _Walter Hines – Station Manager, Radio Capital, Central City, Amestris_

"So…" Ed turned to look at Al, still highly confused. "New Amestris is…"

"A website, primarily." Al concluded. "It's a community forum – a meeting place for unlocked Amestrian citizens who are searching for each other from around the globe. Although, we do have a few actual gathering locations in areas with a high number of Amestrians. There's one close by actually. And others arrange special meetings in their areas."

Ed opened and closed his mouth a few times before proceeding. "Right. You're… talking about all of this like its real."

"It is real." He said it so plainly, so relaxed and composed – Ed was almost tempted to believe him.

"Sure it is…" And then he sighed, realizing with great disappointment that his earlier theory was correct. The elaborate back story, the fancy website and forum, the weird meeting in a creepy location, the dudes who were just a bit too much in character and had no regard for non-players… "So you're LARPing."

"Lar-ping? What's that?"

Because, naturally, Allen didn't have a clue that what he was doing had a name – that or he was just _really_ into this and good at playing his part. Although… Ed didn't think the memory loss thing was fake but just how long had Al been playing this game?

"Live – Action – Role – Play." He annunciated slowly. "It's a game, Allen. You know it's a game… right? None of this is real."

Al sighed this time and shook his head with a sad smile. "I knew you wouldn't believe me. You're still locked. It's almost impossible to understand without the memories."

"Locked, right. I'm just locked." Ed ran a hand through his bangs. He didn't want to offend the guy – not after everything Al had done for him – but he wasn't going to go around pretending this was real either. "Look, Al. It seems like a great game but LARPing really isn't my thing. So let's not pretend okay? I'm not playing the game."

"I thought you said you'd believe anything at this point." Al looked really disappointed. Ed opened his mouth to respond but Al spoke up again before he could. "It's alright. I didn't really think you would. But it might be hard to explain the rest now. I haven't even started on alchemy or the homunculi or how you play into all of this."

Okay… so he had a point. Ed still wanted to know all of that but if it was all part of the game… did it really matter? "I _don't_ play a part in this. Clearly. Don't these games have rules about not involving non-players? You can't make me play if I don't want to. And considering how violent this game seems to be – I really need to stay out of it. I don't know the first thing about fighting – real or not."

Al snorted and smirked a bit but didn't comment on that specifically. He gave Ed's chair a little shove and resumed his place in front of the keyboard. "It's not a game, Ed. If it was, there _would_ be rules and Envy never would have bothered you today. I wouldn't know who you are and you wouldn't be important to me at all. But you are, Ed. You're more important than you could possibly understand – even after I tell you everything – and not just to me. There are others, people who count you as a friend as… family."

Well – Ed figured – he might as well just let Al tell the whole story. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. But maybe he could figure out what _was_ real by reading between the lines. "Because I'm one of you. Is that what you're saying? You're one of these Amestrians and so am I?"

Al smiled, a real smile this time. "That's right." He clicked on a new bar and started typing.

"But you're… unlocked, or whatever you call it and I'm still locked. Is that right?"

"Yup!" Al pushed away from the desk again gestured to the screen. "Look here."

Ed pulled himself closer and peered at the top of the page.

AMESTRIAN CITIZEN PROFILE

 _Name: Edward Elric_

 _Year of Birth: 1899_

 _Place of Birth: Resembool, Amestris_

 _Occupation: State Alchemist, Fullmetal, Major_

 _Status: Locked_

 _New World Name: Jarred Hohens_

Ed froze, staring at the line which so clearly bore his name. This was… his profile – or one that someone had created for him anyway – Al, if he had to guess. And according to this, he was really – or at least was partially – this guy named Edward Elric, also apparently connected with the title of Fullmetal. He still didn't know what that meant but this was the third time that word had cropped up and it was starting to annoy him.

"This is mine?" He asked, just to be sure.

Al nodded. "Yes. I made it. We make profiles for everyone we can think of, whether we know where they are or not, whether they are unlocked or not. That way, if they do become unlocked and find the website, they can easily be matched with a profile that's already been created for them and find connections with people they know all over the world. I'm… not really sure how the whole thing works but Sheska assured me that the program would function properly. She knows a lot about computers."

"So what… people just get their memories back one day and run a Goggle search and find the site?" Ed asked skeptically.

"Well, it's not quite that simple. Unlocking usually happens after a traumatic event – at least that we've seen so far. We've only been doing this for a year after all. Technically, we can also unlock people with alchemy but we don't do that anymore." Al made a face and shook his head, almost like he was frustrated with himself for something.

"You mean you could 'unlock' me? Since I'm supposed to be one of you, couldn't you just alchemize my brain to remember all of this stuff? Wouldn't that make things easier on you?"

Al winced and shook his head. "I shouldn't have brought that up. Technically… yes. I could do that. But we don't unlock people with alchemy anymore. It's taboo."

"Taboo?" Ed felt torn between incredulity and curiosity. "You've only been here for a year and you've already got taboos? Why?"

"Because… unlocking memories causes problems. It's hard on people. We're just trying to protect everyone." Al looked sad again, looking away and rubbing his arm absently.

"But… if it's so easy, what's to stop people from unlocking anyone they want?" Ed prompted further. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by now.

Al just shook his head. "No. They can't do that. Only an alchemist can unlock someone that way and then, only if they have the right transmutation circle."

"But you're an alchemist, right?" Ed wondered briefly if that was what Al had done with the mud before. But then, admitting that Al could do alchemy would mean admitting that he believed all of this and he wasn't quite ready to do that yet. Surely there was some other explanation for the mud hand.

"I am."

"And you have the right transportation circle?"

Al looked at him, suddenly frozen for a moment, and then laughed. "Trans- _mu_ -tation circle." He corrected. "And yes, I know it. Actually… I'm the one who came up with it." His sad smile came back too quickly. "I've never actually used it myself. I made it but I was… saving it for someone special first. I showed others how to do it though and they unlocked several people before we realized how problematic it could be. It was… selfish really, to want to uproot our loved ones from the lives they are living comfortably and pull them into this halfway in-halfway out existence we have now. So I destroyed the circles and made everyone swear not to recreate them. It's better this way. People still become unlocked naturally and we do our best to help them with the transition when that happens. But we don't make it happen. Not anymore."

Ed stared at Al for a moment after that little speech. It made sense… he supposed. If any of this was real anyway. His eyes drifted back to the computer screen while Al swiveled back and forth in his chair, apparently lost in his thoughts for the moment.

Below his "New World Name", details continued, listing information that was accurate but, surprisingly, not as informative as he thought it would be. It seemed as though whoever had designed the program had taken steps to ensure identity protection.

 _Location: Known, United States_ (but it didn't list his address or even what city or state he lived in)

 _New World Occupation: Student_ (vague enough to be misunderstood as college or even elementary student – nowhere did it list his actual age and the Year of Birth was off by about a hundred years)

 _Identifiable Amestrians among New World Relations: None_ (a… curious category, most probably referring to his parents who apparently were not Amestrians. How that worked, he had no idea)

 _Amestrian Relations:_ _Father – Van Hohenhiem_ _,_ _Brother – Alphonse Elric _

_Amestrian Connections:_ _Winry Rockbell_ _,_ _Izumi Curtis_ _,_ _Sig Curtis_ _,_ _Roy Mustang_ _,_ _Riza Hawkeye_ _,_ _Jean Havoc_ _,_ _Heymans Breda_ _,_ _Vato Falman_ _,_ _Kain Fuery_ _,_ _Gracia Hughes_ _,_ _Elicia Hughes_

Ed didn't recognize any of the names. "All of these people know me?"

Al stopped spinning for a moment and nodded. "They knew Edward Elric anyway – in Amestris. But not everyone on that list is unlocked. Those are just links to help people find each other if and when they become unlocked. Your name is listed on their profiles as well. It's like a friends list on Facebook. Unlocked Amestrians can send each other primate messages or communicate on the forum."

"Why not just use Facebook then?"

"It's too public. We don't want too many non-Amestrians to know about us."

"But, if you can just Goggle Amestris and find this site, what's to stop non-Amestrians from coming in here and creating their own profiles?"

Al shrugged. "Nothing. And we get that sometimes. But it's pretty clear from the start who is really an Amestrian and who thinks this is just a game – like you." He grinned. "One guy came in with this elaborate back story, claiming to be the most powerful State Alchemist ever – called himself Feladaryn Bladespyre, The Elf Magic Alchemist from Elderwood, Amestris. Obviously, there is no such place and no one knew who he was. We had a good laugh over that when he finally got fed up with our refusal to play along with the game he _thought_ he was getting into and left the forum."

"He probably thought you were a bunch of stuck up jerks for creating an exclusive RPG." Said Ed, but he couldn't help laughing at the name himself.

Al stood up for a second, stretched, and then spun the chair around so he could sit on it backwards and rest his arms and head on the seatback. "Oh, we're not all that exclusive. There are others who actually try to follow the 'rules' of our world. Lukas Nibley, for example, had us all fooled for about a month into thinking he was a real Amestrian. I guess he spent a lot of time perusing the forum and other profiles before creating his own. His back story was pretty realistic. I doubt anyone would have figured it out if he hadn't private messaged the forum moderator to ask some questions about the 'game' that no real Amestrian would ask. We haven't kicked him out or anything. He still gets online all the time. I think he's just about figured out that this is real for the rest of us. He's stopped 'playing his part' and genuinely wants to know about Amestris. He's a nice guy."

Ed nodded, considering all of this new information. Game or not, this was real to Allen. Like – really real. The guy actually believed that he came from another world. So… maybe there was some truth behind those tabloid articles after all. It didn't make Al a bad person, just… confused maybe? or really desperate to cling to something after losing his family and his memories.

Ed reached for the mouse and clicked on something that had caught his attention earlier.

 _Father… Van Hohenhiem…_ It was odd to think about having a father other than the one he already knew. Jarred Hohens Sr. was a good man and a great dad. Ed had never felt anything but love and devotion to the man he called father, even on the rare occasions when they argued. Even if what Al was saying was true – and it couldn't possibly be – there was no way Ed could see himself calling this Van guy dad. But… he was still curious.

 _Name: Van Hohenhiem_

 _Year of Birth: Unknown_

 _Place of Birth: Unknown_

 _Occupation: Unknown_

 _Status: Unknown_

 _New World Name: Unknown_

 _Location: Unknown_

 _New World Occupation: Unknown_

 _Identifiable Amestrians among New World Relation: Unknown_

 _Amestrian Relations:_ _Son – Edward Elric_ _,_ _Son –_ _Alphonse Elric_

 _Amestrian connections: Unknown_

"Wow… this Hohenhiem guy is really something isn't he? Quite the mystery - it's a wonder he's even on here." Ed turned to look at Allen with a wry grin.

Al looked confused for a moment and then realized what Ed was reading. "Oh… that." He yawned. "I actually know a lot more about him but it isn't really information that he would want anyone reading. I'm not even sure he made it here with the rest of us or if he would still be around. He was pretty… unique to begin with."

"But he's Edward Elric's dad?"

"Yeah." Al's eyes drifted shut for a moment, that weird, sad smile still lingering on his face.

"You okay?" Ed asked, worrying. It wasn't even six yet, far too early for any normal teenager to feel tired.

Al quirked a grin but kept his eyes closed. "Yeah, I'm alright. I just have a weird sleep schedule. I usually take a couple of cat naps during the day and I missed one when I was rescuing you earlier. Give me ten minutes and I'll be talking your ear off again."

"Right. Ten minutes." Ed smiled. Allen might be a bit weird and eccentric, but he was a good guy – helpful, kind, brave, a bit cocky at times but with an air of innocence that made him just that much more likable. He was the kind of guy Ed could see himself hanging around more often if he were at all in a position to do so. But really, they lived on opposite sides of town and had a couple billion dollars separating them class-wise. No way would Ed ever fit in with the kind of people Allen Richart spent his time with. They didn't really have much in common, either. One daring rescue, a change of clothes, and an offer to stay the weekend and meet some college professor did not automatically make them friends, no matter how likeable the guy was. Besides, Ed really wasn't into LARPing and he got the feeling that this game was a really big part of Al's life.

 _Poor guy doesn't have much else, I suppose. He lost everything… if this is what he needs to get by, well, at least he's got something._

With a sigh, Ed decided to continue perusing the New Amestris website. Scrolling to the bottom of Van Hohenhiem's profile, he clicked on the link for the man's other son, Edward Elric's brother.

 _Name: Alphonse Elric_

Ed frowned. _Alphonse… That was the name Allen said –_ he scrolled down to the middle of the page, skipping all of the other information until he got to –

 _New World Name: Allen Richart_

Ed sat still for several moments, his gaze flicking between the computer screen and the cat napping teenager on the chair next to him. _Brother… he's my – well, no. He's Edward Elric's brother. But…_ It certainly explained a lot – like why Al would know _him_ of all people and just what made Ed so important to the other boy. The care and concern he'd shown while bandaging Ed's cheek… so maybe it was just a game but to Al… to Al this was real and that meant… _He thinks I'm his brother._

That was an overwhelming thought. Ed had never been a brother before. Not that he disliked the idea just… but Al would certainly make a pretty cool brother. Ed supposed that if he was going to have a brother, he'd want that brother to be a lot like Al.

 _Name: Alphonse Elric_

 _Year of Birth: 1900_

 _Place of Birth: Resembool, Amestris_

 _Occupation: Alchemist_

 _Status: Unlocked_

 _New World Name: Allen Richart_

 _Location: Known, United States_

 _New World Occupation: Student_

 _Identifiable Amestrians among New World Relations: None_

 _Amestrian Relations:_ _Father – Van Hohenhiem_ _,_ _Brother – Edward Elric _

_Amestrian Connections:_ _Winry Rockbell_ _,_ _Izumi Curtis_ _,_ _Sig Curtis_ _,_ _Roy Mustang_ _,_ _Riza Hawkeye_ _,_ _Jean Havoc_ _,_ _Heymans Breda_ _,_ _Vato Falman_ _,_ _Kain Fuery_ _,_ _Gracia Hughes_ _,_ _Elicia Hughes_

Ed wasn't sure how many times he read over the page, scrolling up and down as though that would somehow provide him with more information. It didn't really make sense how this small – fictional – detail had suddenly made the whole thing seem a little more real. It wasn't real! Al wasn't his brother. He was just a desperate kid who'd created a family for himself out of thin air.

It was the eyes! It had to be. Allen had seen him – at the mall or something – and decided that since they had the same eyes Jarred Hohens would make a perfect 'brother' for him in this convoluted role-playing story he and his friends had concocted. And now he was actually trying to drag Jarred into his fantasy world. It was… he was crazy, right? Maybe that car accident rattled his brain even more than the doctors thought.

Ed felt terrible for the thought even as it passed through his mind. He shook his head to clear it, hoping to somehow make sense of everything – especially that small voice in the back of his head whispering to him – _maybe… may-be this could be real._

"Found that page, huh?"

Ed looked up, startled to see that Al was awake. He glanced at the clock in the corner of the computer screen. Yup – ten minutes exactly. The boy was looking at Ed now, his chin propped up atop his hands on the back of the chair. He was smiling softly. Ed was starting to hate that sad glint hiding behind Al's eyes.

"Yeah." Ed nodded, glancing back at the monitor. "So you're my brother, huh? That's pretty cool."

Al blinked and then sat up straight, beaming – all glimmers of sadness gone, just like that. "Really? You think so? I wasn't sure how you'd react."

Ed shrugged and smirked. "Well, yeah. I mean, I'm not really Edward Elric but hey, having a billionaire for a little brother doesn't sound too bad."

Al laughed and rolled his eyes. "Haha. Very funny." Then he sobered a bit, even as he kept smiling. "And I know you're not really Edward Elric. You're Jarred Hohens. You can't _be_ Edward Elric so long as your memories remain locked. But at least you know now – why I know who you are, why I've been watching you all these months."

"Gee, that's kind of creepy. You make it sound like you're a stalker or something."

Al blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh… well I guess it was kind of like stalking you. I mean, I only ever watched from a distance. I didn't ever intend to interfere in your life. It was enough just to see you every now and then and… well, that still sounds creepy doesn't it? Sorry."

Ed waved away the apology. "Don't worry about it. Just cause you're a creepy stalker dude doesn't mean you're a bad guy. Just don't go trying to murder me or anything, okay?"

For half a moment, Al's face froze in a look of horror. Then they both laughed.

"Hey, Al." said Ed once they caught their breath. "Why do you think I'm Edward Elric? I mean, assuming this is all real, he could be anyone right? You and I aren't even remotely related. So what makes you so sure?"

Al considered the question for a moment before answering. "Well, partially, it's because you look just like him. You have Brother's eyes, and his hair – though his was longer. Your face is the same too, for the most part. There are small differences but I only notice because I've known you my whole life. For example – you have freckles. They're so light, I barely noticed them before. But up close, they really stand out to me since Brother didn't have any at all. I guess you probably get more sun then Brother ever did."

"I go to the beach, a lot."

Al nodded. "That would explain it. We don't have any beaches in Amestris – it's completely land locked. There were lakes but brother couldn't swim with automail and I couldn't get in the water at all so…"

"Wait, wait… automail? That's… the prosthetic things, right?" Ed recalled the brief Amestrian History lesson. "Why did he have automail?"

Al sighed and looked off to the side, gazing at nothing – like he was looking into the past. "That's something else that is different. When he was eleven, and I was ten, Brother and I made a mistake which cost us a great deal. He lost most of his left leg and his right arm and I lost even more. He got automail and then we spent the next four years trying to make up for what we'd done wrong." Al stopped and shook his head. "It's really a long story and you probably wouldn't understand most of it without understanding something about alchemy first."

Ed nodded slowly, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of losing two of his limbs. He was curious about just what had happened but Al didn't look like he wanted to talk about it. It was with a start that Ed realized he was following the story as though it was real. And really, considering all of the details and the ease at which Al was able to talk about Amestris and his brother… someone who'd only just made up a story wouldn't have all of these answers right off the bat. He'd have to think about it more.

Ed didn't know much about the brain, but he was starting to wonder if it was possible for the mind to create an entire alternate life for itself after a traumatic event. _And then for others to have the same kind of life created in their minds after a traumatic event? Yeah right!_ So then… either this was real or _a lot_ of people were playing into one rich boy's fantasy.

"So… tell me about alchemy then?" There was something. If Al really _could_ use alchemy – like Ed thought maybe he'd seen at the power plant – then maybe he'd have a little something a bit more substantial to base this off of.

And, boy, did Al have a lot to say about alchemy. He started into the subject right away, babbling with a great deal of excitement about such things as transmutations, equivalent exchange, understanding-deconstruction-reconstruction, gates, one-is-all-all-is-one, and so on and so forth. And the incredible thing was that Ed was able to follow it all – to a point anyway. He knew enough about science and chemistry to understand how certain elements came together and broke apart to create new substances. What didn't make sense was how these things could be done using just a circle, some equations, and, apparently, will power. At least, that was how Ed summed up the alchemist's role in the whole process.

"So… what you're saying is that you can draw a circle, 'activate' it, and just like that you can... say… turn lead into gold?" That was what all alchemists wanted to do, right? At least, according to Harry Potter.

"Yes." Al paused a moment, his finger pointing straight at Ed. "And no."

"How is it both?"

"Well, really turning lead into gold is a very simple transmutation. _But_ it's illegal. At least, it was back in Amestris. Here… it doesn't have to be illegal because… well it's not possible."

"You mean you can't do alchemy here?" Ed suppressed the urge to sigh. Wouldn't that just be convenient? Easy to say alchemy was real in Amestris but you can't prove it because alchemy just so happens to not work in this realm. Except… what about the mud hand?

Al shook his head. "That's not it. I _can_ use alchemy here. It's just… limited. I've spent most of this year trying to figure out why. What's the difference between our worlds? And I haven't come to much of a conclusion yet. But I have more or less figured out what is and is not possible on this side of the Gate. Basically, we are limited to the manipulation of matter in shape, size, density, any of those measurable qualities as long as we abide by the rules of equivalent exchange. What we can't do – and what I find particularly frustrating after years of doing things this way – is change the molecular make up of the substance itself. There's some kind of block at the atomic level. So I can't turn oxygen into nitrogen or lead into gold as you suggested. And some of the most complex transmutations are completely out of the question – not necessarily a bad thing considering some of the awful things that alchemy has been used for in the past." He drifted off, a hint of darkness behind his eyes, and Ed wasn't sure he wanted to know what Al had seen and heard about to cause that look on his face.

"So can you show me?" Ed drew Al's attention back to the present. "Is there some kind of alchemy that you can do right now?"

"Oh! Sure!" Al grinned. He opened a drawer in his desk and took out a piece of computer paper. Grabbing a pen from its caddy, he paused for a moment to consider what he wanted to do and then started to draw. Ed didn't think he'd ever seen someone draw such a perfect circle by hand before. He still used a compass to draw circles in geometry and even those weren't always perfect. Al's circle was like the inside of a flower or the iris of someone's eye. And then he proceeded to draw some perfectly straight lines which met at exact angles without using a ruler or a protractor or anything. It was amazing.

"Okay, now for the material." Al said when he was finished. He stood up and looked around the room for a moment before smiling and walking towards the door. "Be right back."

Ed was left alone for several minutes and he took the time to examine the "transmutation circle" Al had drawn. It was like a work of art but Ed couldn't fathom how the circle and lines and weird little symbols, which Al said were all part of the equation, would somehow transform one thing into something completely different.

"Here we are! This will work perfectly." Al came back into the room, holding an empty, aluminum soup can. The wrapper was peeled off so Ed couldn't know for sure but, if he had to guess, he would say that it had once held their dinner. Al placed the can down on top of the paper, right in the center of the transmutation circle. "Alright, watch carefully. It's a very simple transmutation – I'll only be changing the shape of the can – but see if you can figure out how it's done."

Ed eyed his "teacher" skeptically. The only way he could imagine that can changing shape would be crushing it, or cutting it, or taking a hammer and pulverizing it to pieces. No way was it going to change shape just because Al stuck his hands down on the edge of the pretty little circle. No way was –

Blue light.

It looked kind of like blue lightening or fire except that there wasn't any physical substance to it – just light. It didn't even give off any heat. But there was definitely energy. Ed could feel it, like a tingle running through his skin.

And then, the light faded. Ed blinked and looked at Al, wondering what kind of trick he'd used to pull off the little light show. But Al just beamed back at him and tilted his head to the side as though to say, look.

Ed looked. Then he had to look again because there was no way – there was no possible way! Yet, sure enough, the soup can was gone and, in its place, rested a pretty little aluminum cat statue, not so very different from the ones he'd seen earlier on the book shelf.

"Can you do that again?" It was a trick – it had to be a trick. But… if it wasn't then it was really, _really_ cool. Ed twitched his fingers to relieve the sudden urge to try it himself. Just think, if alchemy was real… he could learn it, right? A whole new field of study and learning that he hadn't even begun to tap in to – oh! The possibilities!

Al laughed. "I could change it back, I suppose, or into something else. But it'd be a real shame. She's awfully pretty." He picked up the little metal kitten for closer inspection and grinned.

Ed couldn't help but grin back. "You're a nut. Get another can if you don't want to mess it up. I've got to see that again."

Laughter seemed to dance in Allen's eyes as he met Ed's gaze. "Now you sound just like my brother. Sure. I'll show you again. But you'd better watch closer next time. There are only a few cans in the recycling bin and –"

"Alphonse!"

Al froze and Ed frowned at the unfamiliar voice.

"Hey, where are you kid? I swear this house is way too big."

Al looked at Ed quickly, winced, and then shook his head as if to say, oh well. "I'm in the study, Colonel!" he called out.

"Colonel?" Ed questioned quietly. Al just shrugged in reply.

"What did you do to the Mustang, Al?" The voice asked, drawing closer. Ed heard footsteps in the hallway. "It's covered in mud and…" A dark haired man froze in the doorway, staring incredulously between the two teenage boys in the room. "Alphonse Elric, what – have – you – done?"


	5. Headache Inducing Contemplations

**Unlocked**

In the aftermath of Promised Day, two worlds collided in a way that no one expected. Now the people of Amestris are divided and in this world, the ultimate taboo is not human transmutation but the intentional unlocking of another person's memories – for, once they remember, they can never go back.

* * *

 **A.N.** One of the jokes in this chapter has totally been done before. Go read "Clue" by Unadulterated – credit goes to her for that one. I thought it was hilarious. Also, sorry if the names get confusing at times. Ultimately I'll be sticking with Amestrian names except in certain situations. For now, Ed's still trying to figure it all out so you guys can be confused along with him. More information in this chapter on how everything works.

 **Disclaimer:** Ed, Al, and all their friends are the property of Hiromu Arakawa. I do not own them, but am grateful for the opportunity to use them in the unleashing of my own imagination.

 **Rating:** This story is rated T

* * *

 **Chapter 5, Headache Inducing Contemplations**

For all that Al's home was huge and expensive, its doors were not sound proof; certainly not when the two persons currently arguing out in the hallway weren't making any effort to speak quietly.

"I didn't have a choice, Roy! If I hadn't brought him here, Envy would have found him. And if not Envy, then one of the others. I'm sure Pride was there too which means Wrath must be in town again as well. Until they move on, I'm not about to take the risk -"

"I understand that, Al. What I don't understand is why you thought it was a good idea to tell him _everything_."

"I didn't tell him everything – just… most things. It was better than leaving him in the dark."

"What's wrong with leaving him in the dark? He's better off staying in the dark."

"Not if the homunculi go after him again. He needs to know what's out there and who he can contact if something like this happens again. Besides, it wouldn't have been right not to explain some things after everything he saw today. He was confused."

To be fair, Ed was still confused – even more so now as he eavesdropped on the conversation taking place outside of the study he'd been left alone in. They were talking about homunculi again – he still didn't know what that meant – and the Envy guy plus two others. _Pride and Wrath? What, are we talking about the seven deadly sins here?_ And, for some reason, this Roy guy didn't think Ed should know anything.

"He doesn't believe me anyway." Al continued. "He thinks it's a game, a… larp-ing thing."

"Great, now he's teaching you weird acronyms. He's been with you, what, a few hours? And he's already a bad influence. Does he think that by using shortened words he can make himself seem taller?"

Ed scowled at the closed door. Was this jerk really implying that he was… Ed refused to even think it.

"Colonel!" Al exclaimed with a funny note in his voice which made Ed think he was trying not to laugh. "Be nice! You don't have to start antagonizing him right away. You could at least _try_ to make a good impression."

"I'm more curious as to what kind of impression he made in the mud during that fight, certainly not a very deep one considering his stature."

Smirking… the bastard was smirking. Ed couldn't see him, but he could tell. The so-called "colonel" was racking up points against him every time he opened his mouth. Hell, if Ed wasn't going to think up some form of retribution.

"Please, Roy. Just give him a chance to get to know you without the pretense." Ed paused in his revenge planning when Al's voice turned somber. "I know you care about him. You could at least try to show it this time – make a fresh start."

There was a pause and then the colonel spoke again, sounding equally solemn. "He's not Ed, Alphonse. Without his memories…"

"I know. And I know he can't stay. It's just for the weekend – just until the homunculi leave. I just… I want to take the chance to get to know him as he is now. Maybe he can't be Ed, but that doesn't mean I can't get to know Jarred. And maybe… one day we can at least be friends."

Ed felt a pang in his chest, like something gripping his heart, at Al's words – so desperate and yet so accepting. Allen wanted a brother, but he would take a friend if that was all he could get. It made Ed wish this Amestris place _was_ real, just so Al could have what he wanted.

"I still don't see why you had to tell him everything."

That bastard again… Ed was really starting to dislike the guy and he hadn't even been introduced yet.

"I'm not going to start a friendship off with lies, Roy. I'll tell him the truth whether he believes it or not. Knowing about Amestris isn't going to hurt him. It didn't hurt Max."

"That's a completely different situation. Max is… Max." Roy replied, sounding fondly flabbergasted as he spoke the name.

"He doesn't have his memories – just like Ed."

"Not just like Ed. Ed is locked. Max isn't... he can't be unlocked."

"But he knows the truth, Roy. He knows and he's accepted it. He accepted you and me and Gracia and -"

"Alright, I get it. I just don't think you should bet on Jarred just going with this the way Max did. He's your brother, Al. You know how he is better than anyone. He's a skeptic. He's not going to believe anything without proof."

"So we give him proof. He seems to like alchemy well enough. If that's not proof –"

"You showed him alchemy?"

"Well, yeah. I had to use alchemy to get away from Envy and I just showed him a simple transmutation before you walked in. Speaking of which, he's probably wondering what's taking so long. We should go back in."

Ed spun around in his chair and made himself look busy at the computer, as though he hadn't been eavesdropping, just as the door opened.

"Ed?"

Ed spun his chair back around, totally casual. "Yeah?" Al came into the room, followed by the "colonel" who was frowning slightly.

"You call him Ed?" The man whispered not quietly enough.

Al just smiled. "He told me to call him Ed – it's short for Jarred."

"Really?"

"Why does everyone find that so surprising?" Ed cut in, not really wanting to delve into the variety of terrible nicknames one could think up for Jarred again. "Who are you?" Okay, so it was a little rude, but Ed wasn't feeling particularly amicable towards the man who had just insulted his height – twice.

Luckily, Al stepped in before either of them could make it worse. "Ed, this is Roland Mustard. He's a good friend of mine."

"Another Amestrain?" Ed asked just to be certain, though he was fairly sure he was right given everything he'd overheard. But they didn't know that. Al nodded. Ed took a moment to just look at the man – Roland wasn't all that tall himself, fairly average for a man. And Ed didn't think he was really that much shorter but he didn't want to be too obvious by standing up to check. Heck, he'd been sitting when Roland had come in the first time so what did he know? Still, he wasn't going to get away with the short-cracks and Ed had the _perfect_ idea for revenge now. "Al called you Colonel, earlier."

"That's right," Roland replied. "I was a colonel in the military back in Amestris."

"Right, so… I guess its Colonel Mustard in the library with the candlestick, huh?" It was Ed's turn to smirk and he did, while Colonel Mustard's face turned an interesting shade of red.

"Huh? What do you mean, Ed?" Al asked, looking between them. "I don't get it."

Colonel Mustard palmed his face with a heavy groan. "Clue, Al… the board game." He informed the confused boy. Ed snickered.

"Clue?" Al frowned and then his face lit up. "Oh – Oh! That's funny!" he laughed. "Good one, Brother. I never heard that before."

Ed blinked when Al so casually called him 'brother.' It didn't bother him per say. It was just… weird and was going to take some getting used to if it kept happening. Neither Al nor the Colonel seemed to notice the slip though.

"And you're not going to hear it again, Al." Colonel Mustard said firmly. "From this point forward, the title of Colonel is only to be applied to my Amestrian name, Roy _Mustang_. I won't have you repeating that all over the forum."

"Of course not, Colonel." Al conceded even as he continued to giggle behind his hand. "Though I'm not sure you'll get Ed to agree."

The Colonel's eyes shot towards Ed who just grinned wickedly. "Not a chance. That name is sticking, Colonel Mustard. Not a thing you can do about it."

"How about I turn you into fried shrimp, Fullmetal? Then we'll see how well the name sticks."

"Colonel!"

"He started it, Al. If he can dish it out then he can take it too."

Ed almost blew up at the shrimp comment – almost. But he was distracted by something else. "What does that word mean – Fullmetal? That Envy guy called me that. So did the kid. The profile Al made for me said it too and now you." He pointed his finger at Colonel Mustard. "Sounds like something out of a comic book. So what is it?"

"It's your code name, Ed."Al supplied helpfully. "Well, it's Edward Elric's code name anyway. You see, Brother was a State Alchemist. Every State Alchemist is given a code name and a pocket watch when they receive their certification. The name usually reflects the kind of alchemy they specialize in, like the Strong Arm Alchemist or the Crystal Alchemist. Colonel Mustang was known as the Flame Alchemist. And you were the Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Huh." Ed considered that for a moment. "Fullmetal… I like it – sounds intimidating."

"You know, that's exactly what you said when you first got the name." Colonel Mustard smiled – a real smile. It was almost… fond, Ed thought. Weird…

"Really? I didn't know that!" Al lit up like a Christmas tree, apparently eager for some nostalgic reminiscing about his lost older brother.

Ed decided to halt that train right there and changed the subject. "So I was… I mean, Edward was an alchemist like you?" He picked up the little cat figurine and gestured towards the transmutation circle which had produced it. "He could make stuff like this, with metal?"

"Yup! Though, really, Brother could do a lot more than that. We studied all sorts of alchemy and didn't really specialize in one particular field. He did work with metals a lot but I'm pretty sure the nickname had more to do with his automail than his specialty."

Ed quirked an eyebrow at that. "Someone's weird idea of a joke?"

"More or less." the Colonel smirked. "The Fuhrer had a twisted sense of humor – considering he turned out to be a homunculus, I can't say I'm all that surprised."

"Fuhrer… isn't that the German word for dictator – like Hitler?" Ed asked, thinking back to his studies on World War II.

"Who's Hitler?" Al asked, spurring Ed to stare at him incredulously before remembering that Allen had lost all of his memories including, it would seem, any knowledge of World History… though he apparently remembered being Alphonse Elric. Ed wasn't sure how that worked.

Colonel Mustard didn't bat an eye at Al's lack of knowledge, but dove right into a brief explanation. "Hitler was the leader of the Nazi party in Germany during World War II – that's the one they were fighting in the first _Captain America_ movie." Al nodded in understanding and Ed had to wonder just how much "history" his "little brother" was being fed trough super hero movies. Hopefully he realized that _those_ were primarily fiction even if they did tie into certain historical events. "He was, essentially, this world's version of Bradley, though clearly not his counterpart since we're still dealing with Wrath here. Now that I think about it though, there are an awful lot of parallels between the two – charismatic leader of a country committing mass genocide under everyone's noses and plotting to take over the world."

"That does sound like Bradley." Al agreed.

"Indeed. But I'm pretty sure Hitler _wasn't_ a homunculus."

"I'm… still not sure what a homunculus is." Ed cut in, anxious to have his questions answered instead of rehashing stuff he already knew or listening to these two talk about things he could only follow halfway.

Al looked at the Colonel and the Colonel looked back and Ed thought they might be having some sort of silent conversation, trying to figure out exactly what to tell him.

"They're going to come after him again, Roy." Al said after a long moment. "He needs to know."

Another moment passed and then the Colonel sighed. "Go ahead and tell him then. I'm going to make a sandwich." He turned to leave in a huff.

"Don't forget the mustard, Colonel Mustard." Ed tossed out after the man, unable to resist.

"Can it, shrimp." The man's voice carried back.

Ed growled. Enough was enough. "Who are you calling a microbial crustacean?! Come back here and say that to my face!"

Ed didn't realize he was on his feet and halfway out the door until Al pulled him back. "He didn't say that, Brother. Calm down."

Ed scowled and huffed and fumed for several minutes, willing himself to calm down. The bastard wasn't here anymore but boy was he in for it when he got back. With one last growl, Ed sat himself back down in his chair and spun around twice before facing Al once more – only to find the other boy staring at him with a soft smile. "What?"

Al just closed his eyes and shook his head with a soft laugh. "Nothing. You just sounded so much like my brother just now. It's hard to remember that you're not really him without his memories. You see, it's more than just your looks. You act just like him too. That's how I know."

"…Right." Ed replied awkwardly. He wasn't ready to admit how much he was starting to want to _be_ Edward Elric – to _be_ Al's big brother. Somehow, the kid just made it all seem so appealing. But, he wasn't Edward Elric. He was Jarred Hohens. One life was complicated enough. He didn't need another.

"What's Colonel Mustard's problem anyway?" Ed changed the subject again, feeling self-conscious and still mad at the idiot Colonel.

Al snorted. "For one thing – you keep calling him Colonel Mustard. Though I suppose it's better than what you used to call him."

"What did I used to call him?"

"Colonel Bastard." Al answered, drawing his eyebrows together in thought. "Oddly enough, he never complained about that. Anyway," Al offered a friendly smile. "You shouldn't let him bother you so much. I think all of the teasing is just his way of saying he cares."

"He cares?" Ed echoed incredulously. "You're kidding right? Who's he supposed to be, my father? – no, that was that unknown guy."

Al just shook his head. "Roy was your commanding officer back in Amestris. You guys never really got along but I know Brother actually respected the Colonel a lot and Roy's told me enough in the past year for me to realize that he really was looking out for us, even when he pretended not to care. I think he's missed you almost as much as I have."

"Now _that,_ I don't believe."

Al smirked. "Are you saying you believe the rest?"

Ed frowned. He'd walked right into that one. "I believe that alchemy thing might be real, though you've still got to show me again – and teach me how to do it."

"Sure!" Al seemed almost too eager to do so. "What about the rest?"

"We'll see." Ed consented that much. He wasn't ready to say for certain either way. "What's a homunculus?"

"Right." Al settled himself on his seat and met Ed's gaze with a serious expression. Back to business. "A homunculus is a being created using alchemy – they look human for the most part but they have strange powers and they're nearly immortal."

"Immortal?"

"Nearly. They can die, just not easily. They don't grow old and they heal from injuries almost instantly. I once saw one get his head lobbed off and it just grew back a moment later."

And he was talking about this so casually – like it was no big deal. Ed stared, struck dumb for the moment.

"There were seven of them in Amestris – no, eight I guess, if you include Father – that is, their Father. He was the first homunculus created over four hundred years ago in Xerxes. He… spawned the other homunculi from himself by casting off unwanted parts in order to make himself perfect. The seven, he named after the seven deadly sins – Wrath, Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Greed, and Sloth." Al counted them off on his fingers. Mustang killed Lust awhile back and Gluttony, Envy, and Sloth were killed in the battle before we came here. So that leaves Wrath, Pride, and Greed. Greed's… kind of a special case though. He was on our side at the end and we haven't seen him here yet so I'm not sure how that's going to turn out.

"What you need to know is that there are no homunculi in this world – at least not that we've encountered. The man you were fighting with today, Envy, is human in every way, shape, and form."

"I thought you said Envy was dead." Ed questioned, coming out of his stupor.

"Oh, he is. The Envy we saw today – well, I guess it is better to call him Enoch. He really can't ever _be_ Enoch."

"He's locked?"

Al shook his head. "No, his situation is different. You see, from what we can tell, every person – or homunculus – in Amestris either has or had a counterpart here in this world. _But_ , there is no actual correlation between them. Roy described it as an alternate universe. Even though the people are the same, they have completely different histories. That's why you and I can be brothers from Amestris but aren't related at all here. We have different parents and have lived completely separate lives."

"Except that we grew up in the same city." Ed pointed out, drawn into pondering the complexities of alternate realities which he had formally reserved for science-fiction movies.

"Well, yes. And that's a coincidence we've been thinking about for awhile. There are actually a lot of people in this city that I used to know in Amestris. The simple fact that Roy was able to find me so soon after all of this happened is amazing. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't been there. For me, it was like I just woke up in a new body and in a world I didn't recognize at all and everyone was telling me that I was someone else I couldn't remember being. I was terrified. I kept asking for my brother – for you – and everyone thought I was crazy. Then Roy showed up and we were able to piece together most of what had happened and start looking for others.

"Anyway, it is strange that so many of us are here in this city. Our childhood friend Winry lives here too along with a lot of Mustang's team from the military. And occasionally we find someone with the exact same relationships here as they had in Amestris – that's rare though. There are a few other cities around the world with the similar groupings. One theory floating around the forum is that we're all connected – like our souls or something – and that certain people are just meant to cross paths no matter what world we live in. I've never given much thought to the idea of fate – but I suppose it is possible."

Ed considered that as Al drifted off into his own head. People being connected, meant to meet… it all implied that he and Al would have likely met someday, with or without this whole Amestris thing. And who else did he know who might be connected in this crazy tale? It was all so mind-boggling. Thinking about stuff like this made his head hurt.

"Back to Envy…" Ed prompted, hoping to steer the conversation away from headache inducing contemplations – he didn't hold out much hope though. This whole mess was one giant headache.

Al shook his head as though to clear it and chuckled lightly. "Oh! Yes, so as I was saying. Everyone in Amestris has a counterpart here – but not everyone here has an Amestrian counterpart. We think maybe they have counterparts in other countries from that world – like Drachma or Xing – but only Amestris was caught up in the transmutation so no one else would have been affected.

"Also, anyone who died in Amestris before or during Promised Day, is actually dead. Their souls did not travel to this world so they cannot be unlocked in their counterparts. Enoch is one of those people. He is Envy's counterpart – but Envy is dead so Enoch can never be unlocked."

"That's why he hates it when people call him Envy." Ed concluded.

"Right." Al nodded. "He doesn't consider himself to actually be Envy anymore than you consider yourself to be Edward Elric. Pride and Wrath are unlocked though and they're using Enoch. I don't know how much he actually believes them about Amestris and everything, but they're offering him a chance at money and power just to do what they say so… he follows them."

"And Pride and Wrath are…?"

"You may have seen Pride. Envy mentioned him but I didn't see him. Was there anyone else there that you saw?"

"Just some kid." Ed shrugged. "Envy called him Sal."

"That's Pride."

"The kid?"

"Yeah. In Amestris, he disguised himself as Selim Bradley – the Fuhrer's son. King Bradley, the Fuhrer, was actually Wrath. Here he's wealthy businessman named Bradley Smith."

"I've heard of him." Ed interrupted. "Isn't he that guy who's buying out thousands of shares on Wall Street?"

"I think so. That sounds about right – I haven't really been following Wrath's mild-mannered alter ego much. Roy knows more about him than I do."

"Roy needs to stop showing you super hero movies." Ed commented, quirking an eyebrow at Al's unexpected turn-of-phrase.

"What's wrong with super hero movies?" Colonel Mustard himself came back into the room at that moment, with a large meat and cheese sandwich on a plate.

"Nothing." Ed shrugged. "I just can't believe he's never seen _The Matrix_. And since you're apparently in charge of re-culturing this kid, I'm holding you responsible."

Roy just shrugged. "Give it time. I can only convince him to watch one or two movies a month. If he wasn't from Amestris I'd question his sanity for being the only sixteen year old in America who doesn't spend half of his free time glued to the TV or video games."

Ed turned to his "little brother" for an explanation on that one. Al just shrugged. "Why should I limit myself to watching the world on a little box when I have five wonderful senses to experience everything with?"

Then, as Ed watched, Al turned to look at Roy and some kind of silent understanding passed between them. It was solemn and purposeful and it lasted only a moment but it left Ed feeling like he'd missed something huge.

Then Roy was talking again like the moment had never happened. "So how far did you get?"

"Um, I think we've covered most of the basics." Al said after a moment. "Did you have any more questions, Ed."

"Uh, yeah." He had a lot of questions but he doubted they'd be able to cover them all tonight. He picked a few to start with. "You said the homunculi had powers in addition to being immortal – just what are we talking about here? Flying? Super strength? Laser beam eyes?"

"Nothing so cliché." Roy scoffed.

"Well, I'm sorry Mr. Super-hero-movie. I haven't been given much to go on here. Care to enlighten?"

"Don't mind if I do." The Colonel sat himself down in a large, cushy chair next to the book case and proceeded to take a big bite out of his sandwich and chew slowly before continuing. "Let's see. Wrath had what he liked to call his Ultimate Eye – which basically allowed him to see what you were about to do before you did it. He was fast too, and a skilled swordsman, nearly impossible to beat. Then there was Greed with his Ultimate Shield which, well… Al, you knew Ling better than me. How would you describe it?"

"I didn't actually see him much when he was Greed. Brother was with him but that was while we were separated. I did see the first Greed use his shield a lot and he explained it to me – essentially, he was able to harden his body to near indestructibility. So long as he had his shield up, you couldn't hurt him."

"Wait… there were two Greeds?" Ed asked, feeling his headache start back up.

"Yes." Al continued explaining. "The first Greed, well he rebelled against the others and Wrath ended up killing him but I guess they were able to preserve his stone… um, that's basically what keeps them alive – and later they put it inside the body of a friend of ours, Ling Yao, making him into the new Greed. But Greedling was even more rebellious than the first Greed and he teamed up with us for the final battle."

"Ri-ight… okay, got it. Moving on." Ed rubbed his temples, wondering if he'd even be able to sleep tonight with all of this weird new information buzzing around in his brain.

Mustang took up the report again. "Next, I guess is, uh… Lust. She had Ultimate, um…"

"Fingernails?" Al supplied with a smirk.

"Fingernails?!" Ed echoed incredulously. "You're joking."

"No, that's actually accurate." Roy conceded to Ed's astonishment. "Though I don't think she actually called them that – not in my presence anyway. Actually – I think only Wrath and Greed used the whole 'Ultimate' thing. Anyway, yes, Lust could extend her fingers out into sharpened spears and… well." Roy rubbed his side with a twisted expression on his face, giving Ed the impression that he'd had a close encounter with those fingers at some point.

"Gluttony was basically one gigantic stomach." Al picked up, moving on. "He ate everything – including people. And he could open his stomach up into this huge mouth and send out beams which swallowed everything in its path."

"That's… really creepy." Ed was rather glad that he had trouble imagining that one. He didn't _want_ to know what it looked like.

"Just be glad you don't remember the time he swallowed you whole."

"Sw-swallowed me wh – nevermind. I'm going to forget you said that. Moving on." Ed was starting to regret asking about their powers. "Tell me about Envy."

Al looked at Roy who scowled… his face was actually kind of scary. "He was a shape-shifter." The man said coldly. "He could make himself look like anyone and that possibly made him the most dangerous… and the most vile."

"He gone, Roy." Al said softly. "He can't hurt anyone ever again. Enoch is only a shadow and nothing we can't handle."

Once again, Ed felt like he was missing something. Silence hung in the room for several moments until he couldn't take it anymore. He cleared his throat. "So… Pride?"

Al shuddered. "Pride could control shadows, turning them into solid weapons or using them to spy on others. And most never would have suspected him because he wore the face of a child. Sloth was huge." Al switched to the last homunculus without pause. "I guess you could say he did have super strength and super speed too if what I heard was correct. I didn't see that battle though."

"Wait… _Sloth_ was fast? Isn't that an oxymoron?"

Al grinned a little. "Yeah, but he spent all of his time lamenting over what a pain it was to have to do anything and how much he just want to finish his work so that he could go back to sleep."

Ed snorted. "Okay, that sounds more like sloth. Hey, Colonel Mustard." Ed looked over to where the older man still seemed to be brooding over a half-finished sandwich. That wouldn't do. Roy looked up only enough to glare at him. "Al said earlier that you were the Flame Alchemist. So just what can the Flame Alchemist do that's so great?"

The Colonel smirked, which was a far cry better from the dark expression he'd been wearing before. The smirk might be irritating but at least it wasn't scary. "You want to see?"

"Hell, yeah."

Roy set his sandwich on a side table and stood up. "Do you have a lighter I can borrow, Al?"

Al frowned slightly, though his eyes were sparkling with mischief. "You'd better not set my house on fire, Roy." He opened a drawer and started fishing around for the requested item.

"Oh, ye of little faith." The Colonel grabbed a sharpie marker from the pen caddie, uncapped it and started drawing on the back of his hand. A moment later, Ed was able to make out the beginnings of a transmutation circle, sort of like the one Al had drawn earlier but with different lines and symbols. When he was finished Roy reached for the lighter Al had found but stopped short, frowning at the long-reach butane candle lighter. "What is this?"

Al shrugged. "It's all I have. There may be some matches in the kitchen."

Roy sighed. "No this will work. It just won't look as cool. What I wouldn't give for some real ignition cloth." He picked up the lighter and turned to look at Ed. "Watch carefully, Fullmetal. Maybe you'll learn something."

"What do you need the lighter for?" Ed asked skeptically. "Shouldn't the _Flame_ Alchemist be able to create fire out of thin air?"

"This isn't magic. It's science. Equivalent exchange – you can't create something out of nothing." Roy explained calmly, not taking Ed's bait. "All I need is a spark." He grinned and clicked the lighter. It lit – as expected. Ed didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then the circle on the back of Roy's hand glowed blue and the flame began to grow.

Ed watched in wonder as fire blossomed from the tip of the lighter like a rose – it's petals dancing brilliant orange, red, green, and even blue. It was beautiful… beautiful and powerful, deadly, dangerous. If Roy could manipulate flames like this – with such accuracy a detail – Ed didn't want to imagine what the Flame Alchemist could do when he wasn't trying not to burn Al's house down.

When it was over, Ed could only stare at the man with a sudden sense of awe and respect – the guy might be a jerk but he was a jerk with power.

"You have _got_ to teach me how to do that."


End file.
